


Borderline Toxic

by Mooney_01



Series: Borderline [1]
Category: Star Wars, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Canon Compliant, Canon Divergence - Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force Ghost Qui-Gon Jinn, Force Ghost(s), Hurt Obi-Wan Kenobi, Multi, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Mess, Pre-Star Wars: Attack of the Clones, Pre-Star Wars: The Phantom Menace, References to Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008), Slow Burn, Star Wars - Freeform, Young Obi-Wan Kenobi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:40:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 45,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24380686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mooney_01/pseuds/Mooney_01
Summary: Every Jedi is taught to hold no attachments.Every Jedi is taught that they are Peacekeepers and are following the light side of the Force.So why do you feel a growing distaste for the Order?○○○○○○○○○These are some episodes in the relationship between you and Obi-Wan Kenobi and how you stumble from friendship to lovers.Spanning from post-Phantom Menace to post Revenge of the Sith.This is a slow burn I guess? That will have eventual smut. Just be very prepared for sad Obi that breaks all of our hearts.(**** = NSFW chapters)
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Reader, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Siri Tachi, Obi-Wan Kenobi/You
Series: Borderline [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1813339
Comments: 88
Kudos: 143





	1. Episode One - Embers

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this is the first time I have written in months so I do apologise if this is awful but hey ho, nowt better to do. 
> 
> @ Abbie, if you're reading this which you probably will because we both know you're thirsty for Obi-wan content, it's me, Laura. 
> 
> This starts off very slow and is quite long, but I just wanted to build a bit of history and character between the narrator and Obi-Wan - sorry if it is dull.
> 
> As always, I appreciate comments/kudos/interaction - let me know what you want and it could be worked into the narrative. 
> 
> Love you all, stay safe and keep on loving Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Episode One Despite being engulfed by a stifling heat during daylight hours, Tatooine’s night brought with it a crisp wind which pinched at your nose and pricked your cheeks. You grumbled, pulling your robes tighter against your body as you watched the dying embers of the fire throb and ebb, dueling against the breeze for dominance. You knew the flames thrashes were futile but you could not deny the tug of hope in the back of your mind that it might, just for a small time more, survive against the tyrannous wind and bring some form of comfort for you in this night.

To your dismay, a small puff extinguished the glow and you echoed it with a sigh.

“Stupid, kriffing council,” you mumbled, bringing yourself to a squat. You passed a quick glance to the Jedi Knight and his padawan sleeping across from you. Anakin was sprawled rather… undignified upon the floor and you had to suppress the urge to chuckle. The fourteen year old had just hit a growth spurt, now far too dangerously close to being taller than you. Smiling, you warmed your palms with an exhale and rubbed them together as you recalled meeting him for the first time those many moons ago. The small and soft nine year with mischievous blue eyes had now been stretched out into the lanky and sharp teenager spread across the ground. Every now and then he would twitch, sputter something incoherent and shift his position on the floor, lopping his limbs this way and that with a gentle _thump_. In the oppressing darkness, it almost appeared that he had more than two arms and with his current position - backside arched up - he resembled a spine spider. A smile spread across your face, he certainly had the attitude of one anyway. _Or a Loth-Wolf._

You let your gaze fall upon Obi-Wan. It still blew your mind that your old creche-mate was in charge of another living being, especially as you had grown up witnessing his reckless nature put him, and yourself occasionally, in situations that were _interesting_ , or hearing tales such as those from Pijal where he drove a _kriffing ship_ through a Czerka Corporation building. Shaking your head in admiration you took in his sharp features. It had been years since you had last seen him and since then his hair had grown out from that awful spikey trim he adorned as a padawan into longer locks which he was constantly sweeping aside. You remembered the journey to Tatooine, joking that if you did a shot of whiskey every time he ran his hands through the golden silk strands that you would end up obliterated. He just shot you that Obi-Wan Kenobi shit-eating-grin that for some reason made your stomach lurch. Golden stubble had begun to spread across his cheeks, hiding his youthful features and making him appear more like a man. Warmth pooled through you as you took him in, making the chill in your bones subside for a moment. He had grown far more handsome since your last encounter on Naboo five years ago, more than you could have imagined.

Like his young padawan, the Knight was sleeping on the floor. It became evident to you that the last five years of being Anakin’s master had made Obi-Wan age, with laughter lines imprinting themselves on the edge of his eyes, though now they were softened in his slumber. Regret tugged at your heart that you hadn’t been around enough to witness all of the events that etched the crevices in his face, but duty must come first to a Jedi. His top lip was shadowed by the beginning of a mustache, but it was parted from the bottom as he breathed softly. With his head propped up on what you knew was a firm bicep and knees bent so he was curled inwards, the man almost looked vulnerable. You knew that wasn’t the case - you were eying up the first Jedi to kill a sith in years and subsequently he was anointed a Knight without having to face the Trials. You rolled your eyes at that, _typical Kenobi, having to go and do the impossible._

Giving up on trying to find the floor comfortable you rose to your feet. Jedis were expected to be used to disagreeable surroundings due to the whole ‘no belongings’ teaching, but you had developed a habit of purchasing throws and pillows for your bed back at the Temple _and_ on the hangar of your ship _and_ on your quarters back at Naboo… so this meant the dusty, cracked and cold ground of Tatooine would not cut it. Rummaging through your backpack, you hummed in content as your fingers curled around your treasure and you clutched the bottle against your chest, plopping back down onto the ground. Although the drink looked dull in the darkness, you knew that the liquid amber that swirled within the glass was one of the most beautiful liquors you had ever witnessed. Popping the cork you took a brief swig, feeling the spirit tumble down your throat and leave in its wake flames that extinguished the cold that had seeped throughout your body.

_Gods that was needed._

Licking your lips to ensure every drop of the rather expensive fire-water reached its desired destination, you raised the neck to your lips again about to take another gulp - when Obi-Wan whined.

Your head snapped towards him.

His brows were furrowed, casting branch-like shadows across his face. His breaths became harsher, more jaggedly and interrupted with soft pleas that you couldn’t quite make out. Obi-wan’s fingers curled, crumpling the earth beneath them as they plugged into the ground and a shout ripped its way out of his throat.

“Master!”

Images of Qui-Gon Jinn shot through your mind at supersonic speed. His comforting voice, his deep, earthy chuckle, harsh chidings delivered to you and Obi-Wan, countless cups of tea, odd objects and holograms scattered around his room and his open deviance towards the Council. Then the shattering memories of the broken ex-padawan now Master slashed through your thoughts. Obi-Wan on his knees, clutching a dead Qui-Gon as sobs rocked through his body. Obi-wan refusing to allow anyone to touch his Master, struggling under the deceased man’s higher stature as he dragged him away. Him, in your quarters that night, still sand and tear-streaked not saying a word as you cried, feebly clutching his hand in yours, entangling your fingers. You gently nudging his robes off, striping him down and leading him to the refresher with no other intentions than making him clean himself. You knew he didn’t care about his own state and that meant you had to. Your best-friend’s world had just caved in - screw whatever the code said about forming attachments, Qui-Gon had eventually become Obi-Wan’s father. You cried as you scrubbed the boy, no man because that was the day his boyhood was robbed from him, butchered and impaled upon a red lightsaber. The heartache you felt then as you watched him box up his emotions pathetically, like sellotaping shattered glass back together, when he accepted the burden of training Anakin before he was ready thundered through your body again now at his outcry.

The bottle fell from your hand and met the floor with a thud as you doubled over, a stabbing wave of mental anguish earning a gasp. Trembling, you crawled unsteadily to Obi-Wan, hands burrowing themselves into his robes as Qui-Gon’s name tumbled from his lips and tears stained his cheeks.

“Obi,” Gods your voice was so weak, barely above a whisper as you shook the man gently, “Obi-Wan please!”

He mumbled and began to jerk under your grip, eyes shunting back and forwards behind clenched lids. Tears rolled from your cheeks rapidly, exploded upon his chin, forehead, lips as you looked down upon him, watching as his memory or nightmare - or _both_ erupted across his face. His thoughts were projecting into your own, you knew that's why the pain was so visceral and brutal and you needed him to wake up… no wanted him to wake up because no one deserved to feel this shattered.

Gathering more of his robes this time you shook harder and added more force behind your voice as you reached out to sooth the Knight’s signature. It was dark and pulsing like an infested wound and you felt yourself initially flinch repulsively but pushed past the disgust and fear, attempting to sooth him. Cerulean blue punctuated the darkness of the night as his dirt stained hands grabbed your forearms when Obi-Wan woke with a start. You inhaled deeply, allowing the cool air to fill your lungs as you gazed into the man’s eyes, pushing reassuring waves across the force. A cry bubbled out of his throat and you felt your heart shatter.

Looks like tonight you would need to sellotape up broken glass.

Gently you pulled him up into a tight embrace, hands snaking their way into his soft hair as he burrowed his head into your neck. You stole a glance at Anakin, aware that yours and his master’s current interaction could be misconstrued but the boy was still asleep. _Thank the Maker._ His hair was thicker than it looked, you realized as you ran your fingers through it, whispering words of comfort as he whimpered into your skin crying scorching tears.

Some time passed before he managed, “I am so sorry my dear”, his voice was nothing more than a hoarse croak, “It’s hard being here… this is my first time here since Qui-Gon’s dea-”

“Shhh Obi, I know”, you pulled back, allowing your eyes to meet as your hands moved from his hair to cup his face, thumbs circling his cheeks as you offered him a weak smile, “Is there anything I can do for you my friend?”

He returned your smile with one of his own, though not as shit-eating as usual, replying with a shadow of his normal cockiness, “No my old friend”, he cupped your hands with his and held them in his lap, giving them a gentle squeeze, “I am worried though that my dashing good looks have been compromised by crying”.

Rolling your eyes, you smacked him playfully, “Yes well you did look like a Hutt,” you retorted, sticking your tongue out at him.

Obi-wan chuckled before acting hurt, “You wound me Y/N, I would have taken a Kowakian monkey-lizard or Rancor but an actual _Hutt_! What did I ever do to you!”

You both laughed and fell into a comfortable silence, sat across from one another. You stole another glance at Anakin and Obi-Wan followed your gaze.

“He could sleep through an earthquake.”

You smirked, pushing yourself to your feet as you retrieved your bottle, “Like Quinlan then?” you hummed.

“In more ways than one. I… I am not sure if that is a good thing or not,” Obi-Wan brought a hand to his chin, stroking it once… twice, before he asked with a raised eyebrow, “What is this my dear?”

You settled back down beside him, popping the cork before replying, “Glad to see you haven’t changed Kenobi, still an alcoholic it seems.”

This earned you a playful nudge of an elbow as the older man snorted. “Please, with you gone I only had Quinlan left and well,” he waved his hand in the air nonchalantly, “you must remember his _predilection_ for fire-water.”

Casting your mind back, it didn’t take you long before copious memories of the notorious Quinlan Vos and his intoxicated adventures brought a grin to your face. You hummed in agreement and took a swig from the bottle, almost moaning as the warmth spread throughout you.

“Well? What is it?”

“Oh,” you laughed, “Sorry, trapped in my thoughts. This, my friend, is something _very_ expensive and _borderline toxic_.”

Obi-Wan arched his eyebrow again and with an out-stretched hand took the bottle and a deep gulp. You watched as his eyes shot open, he had not anticipated just how warm the spirit would be as it burned its way through his body, expelling any chill he had previously experienced. His tongue darted out, brushing any droplets that may have gotten caught in his moustache and you felt a different warmth throb within you, deep down. You growled softly, re-obtaining the bottle and drinking deeply.

_Curse you Kenobi._

You passed the bottle to the Knight again, watching his Adam's apple bounce as he took another sip, “Obi…” you began, moving ever so slightly closer so that you were pressed shoulder to shoulder. He looked down at you, bottle held to his lips, sparkling blue eyes sheltered by long eyelashes. Maybe it was the alcohol, but you felt your cheeks blush under his gaze, feeling examined by this beautiful specimen of a man.

Clearing your throat, you tried again, “Obi you know you can talk to me right? I know I haven’t been there a lot, like on Coruscant and I am - I’m so, so sorry but -”

“Y/N-”

You shook your head, fumbling with your fingers as he lowered the bottle, “No shut up, let me talk. I just, I am sorry I wasn’t there after Master Jinn’s… death. If I could have I would -”

“- I know -”

“But, like obviously, and obviously it would anyway, but it still _haunts_ you and I want you to know you _can_ talk to me. I’ll be at the temple more now that the Naboo situation has relaxed, you can genuinely chew my ear off because I’d rather that than have you experience this again. I - _yeah_ , I just want you to know that.”

Saying nothing and discarding the bottle, Obi-Wan draped a cloaked arm around your shoulders and pulled you close to him. You leaned your head on his shoulder, feeling his firm and hard figure holding you up as you settled against him. This was the relationship you had shared ever since your youth. You could communicate emotions through touch, and this was him telling you that he accepted your apology (although he thought it unnecessary because you had done nothing wrong) and that he knew, as he always had, that you would have his back until the end. The Jedi Knight gave you a slight squeeze which made your heart stutter.

This reaction was new, but that was a thought for another day. Right now you wanted to enjoy nothing more than the comfort of your life-long friend under the clear night sky. The whiskey had started to work its magic, and combined with the soft warmth provided by the firm body behind and beside you, you felt securely protected against the cold as you nuzzled your head against Obi-Wan’s shoulder. The heavy tug of fatigue danced upon your eyelids, making them droop. Inhaling your friend's scent, spicy-mint mixed with old books, you reached for his other hand as you gave it one last reassuring squeeze before allowing slumber to claim you.


	2. Episode Two - War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This takes starts during the episode 'Landing at Point Rain' in the Clone Wars (Season 2 Episode 5) It is one of my most adored episodes because it shows just how much the Jedi relied on their clones - their family, and ultimately makes Order 66 all the more poignant. Also it's a wonderful example of how stupid Obi-Wan is because he always appears to be racing towards his death. 
> 
> Of course in this slight deviation from canon - you're there and your best friend needs your help to find the urge to fight on.
> 
> These two flashes in your relationship witness how your love struggles to find its footing under the weight of the war and the Code.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first is more gory and focuses more on the struggles of war, the second is definitely more fluffy so do be persistent.
> 
> It's currently half one in the morning so this could be awful and not as cute as I think it is.
> 
> Again - I apologise in advance if this is awful but hey ho I am trying.

**Geonosis - 21BBY**

He collapsed to his knees, lightsaber rolling from his palm and meeting the floor unceremoniously. Dust had smeared itself across his face, speckled with drops of blood and you couldn't tell if it was his own or yours or one of many fallen clones. The clankers would not stop coming, for every one you force pulled towards you, sheathing your saber in and discarding with an annoyed flick of your wrist, another ten swarmed to take it's place. Staying on the offensive was irresponsible, you knew that, but you continued to drag droids in towards you, reveling in the sound of your laser-sword dismantling and beheading the lifeless heaps of rust, snarling as they clattered to the ground. Obi-Wan was clutching his ribs, his breathing was labored as his chin rested on his chest. You watched as his head bobbed shakily with each inhale and exhale.

He had given up. 

'Cody!' You roared, taking a few steps back as you pushed with the force, sending the droids in your immediate vicinity flying backwards, knocking down those behind them like dominoes, "Cody cover me please."

"Yes General!" the Commander replied, dashing to protect you from fire as you turned to Obi-Wan, you faintly heard the sound of his blaster meeting several targets with a successful _clank._

Pulling Kenobi's saber towards you with the Force, you felt how it was ever so slightly heavier than your own when it slapped against your palm. It felt wrong to hold it - you felt inferior to its master as you stood before him not really knowing what to do. This wasn't the notorious General Kenobi - _the Negotiator_ , who met battle with a grit of his teeth and the wit of his tongue, who became so much more alive when animated with the desire to protect his men, his friends and the Republic; _because he was oh so righteous._ You had fought at his side more times than any other Jedi Knight since the start of the Clone Wars, even Anakin, to honor the promise you made to him back on Tatooine in the cool night over a shared bottle of whiskey. What you wouldn't do to return to that memory, when the winds of war were only whispers in the breeze and your biggest concern was making your friend feel better. You were going to be there with him until the _end._ This meant you had grown accustomed to his skill with his blade, how he had mastered the traditional Soresu form to the point where he could keep pace with the most powerful attacks, ones that you knew if you tried to parry you'd lose a limb or two at least, whereas his lightsaber just became a blue, protective yet devastating whirlwind around him; how he still combined this defensive style with Ataru meaning he could spring from defense to attack like a fox. His nerves were always alive, awake; he was always ready to respond, adapt to situations. 

So seeing him like this was a shock to your system, igniting fear and to your shame, the dullest flames of irritation. You and the 212 legion needed this right now like you needed a hole in the head and as selfish as that sounded, you would rather be self indulgent than wind up dead because some clanker shot and killed you due to its programming instead of for revenge or any sense of emotional gratification. You'd even accept for a form of entertainment. _Using droids to fight a war - how uncivilised,_ you groaned internally. What everyone needed now was Obi-Wan to rise to his feet, take his lightsaber and go and demolish some of those droids before you all ended up being a victory poster for the Separatists. 

'Kenobi get up.' You barked, trying to keep your voice stable, hating how weak, how finished he appeared. He didn't look up at you, didn't even acknowledge you were there. The flames brewed and burnt any sympathy felt for the Knight, ' _General_ Kenobi get up, or are you just going to let these men and me die for you!'

The minute the words escaped your lips you regretted them and when his eyes met yours, turbulent blue waves crashing in his irises, it felt as if he gave you a blow. You staggered.

'What's the point,' he spat, eyes clamming shut as he bit his lips in pain, 'We're attacking droids right outside of their manufacturing base! We're fucked.'

You wanted to punch him in his stupid, perfect face but that wouldn't help the already volatile situation, so instead you opted for grabbing his chin as you sank to a squat so you were eye-to-eye, 'What?'

His beard has grown since the start of the war, the coarse hair digging into your skin as you held his chin. Those violent irises met yours again as his force signature roared in pain. You pushed against his mental barrier and he let it tumble down like a city under siege, bricks nosediving towards the ground, shattering on impact. He was torn, confused, caught between a rock and a hard place. His wanting to follow orders, to protect democracy, the Republic fought against his loathsome view of the war and battle. He despised the way his muscles would ache; how he would watch helplessly as clones, his friends, would stumble to their knees and collapse to the ground as death claimed them, sometimes he could hear them gurgling on blood, fighting to escape suffocating on the bubbly, copper fluid, sometimes they cried, other times their heads had been blown clean off granting them a quiet yet briefly agonising death; the guilt was like a venom that coursed through his veins, he despised how no amount of mediation or combat training could clear it; sleep was becoming harder, he could hear his dead men cries and _the stench_ , they always forget to tell you about the smell of death, it seemed engraved into his mind and lingered everywhere he went; he was surprised and fearful that it was only your touch, your presence and harsh or soft words that seemed to act as an anchor in his sea of emotions. You gasped slightly at this revelation, bringing your head closer so that your forehead rested lightly on his own as you pushed further into his thoughts. Obi-Wan was frightened, worried that his Master's apprehensions about the Jedi were grounded after seeing how the Council traded the mantle of Peacekeepers for warriors without protesting; thoughts that Dooku was right plagued his mind; he felt sick every time he saw young Ahsoka on the battlefield, only _fourteen_ years old - it was _sithpiss,_ when he was fourteen his biggest worry was about how he would embarrass Quinlan in the canteen or if he could really be bothered to do all the reading that Qui-Jon had set him, not carrying the burden of a soldier; most of all, he was terrified of losing those he loved. 

He gasped, 'Jedi can have no attachments,' and his breath brushed softly against your cheek, the tip of his nose pressing gently into your skin, the sparse hair on the top of his cheeks scratching against your nose.

Jedi's could have no attachments, but maker above, Obi-Wan had become devoted to others. Nightmares of Anakin plagued his dreams, of him crawling towards his Master, his chest nothing more than a gaping hole as he choked on crimson blood, gurgling, 'Y-You failed me M-Master', his blood stained fingertips grabbing Obi-Wan's robes as the older man staggered backwards, 'Why didn't we leave the Order l-like we talked, I- I would have lived'. 

The memory shifted, altered, showing you a dead Ahsoka, her young body sprawled pathetically on the floor as an army of droids trampled over her. 

It flashed again, revealing an image that caused the Knight's force signature to explode in an outcry of agony. You shot back away from him, but you couldn't leave his consciousness in time, the image of Obi-Wan cradling your dead body in his arms as he had done with Qui-Jon all those years ago invaded your mind. His fingers brushing your pale cheeks as he leaned down towards you, the fringe of his hair grazing your forehead as he cried. 

Shutting your eyes, you exhaled sharply, faintly aware of the ongoing battle around you. 

'Obi,' your voice was softer as you reached for a hand, turning it so his palm was facing upwards, 'I know. Trust me, I understand, but... We _have_ to fight. If we don't fight, if we don't make these sacrifices then we're just as guilty as the Separatists in bringing about the death of democracy'. You placed his saber in his hand, curling his fingers around. 

Cerulean eyes, the storm within them starting to calm, gazed... fondly? into yours, 'Have you been hanging out with Padme recently? Or did you rip that from some other senator? You know I fear politicians more than battle right, I -'

You cut him off with a shove and he grimaced in pain as he clutched his ribs, 'I'm not sorry,' you said, rising to your feet and extending a hand to him. 

He grasped it tightly, sending electricity through your nerves making you jolt, _what in gods name is wrong with me,_ you shook your head, barely hearing him quip back, 'Not yet'. 

That almost earned him another push, but your act of revenge was cut off from a cry from the clones: 

'Reinforcement!' 

You turned to look at Obi-Wan, a grin plastered on your face getting ready to say something about hope, but the man had already sunk to the floor, a look of relief settling on his face. 

... 

...

**Saleucami - 21BBY**

'Medic!' you screamed hoarsely, hoisting the unconscious clone up the ramp of the ship, ignoring the bleating pain that tore down your left leg, the sting that burnt its way across your ribs as the man's side pushed into you and suffered through the warm, sticky blood which threatened to rob you of your vision in your right eye. A part of you, albeit a very tiny, _minuscule_ bite-size piece, told yourself it was worth it, the mission had in theory been a success, Master Eoth Koth had been rescued.

But General Grevious had evaded capture yet again. 

And as you passed the injured man off to a medic, you allowed yourself to breathe for the first time in what felt like years... and immediately regretted it as a new ache erupted from within. _Ow._ Gingerly, you sank to the floor of the ship, panting gently as you surveyed the chaos around you. Injured clones were tumbling into the hangar like a tsunami, the _clunk clunk_ of their shoes vibrating through the metal walls and floors, making you wince slightly. Healers and medical droids were now fighting their own war, just as pivotal as the one you had just suffered through on the battlefield. You could just about hear orders being yelled from one healer to another, watching from your left eye (as your right one was now shielded by a curtain of red) as they passed tools between one another, twirling and spinning them just as you would your saber. 

Every battle counts in war. 

'Y/N... oh my, _Y/N,'_ the familiar Coruscanti accent drew you out of your preoccupation, you started to turn your head towards Obi-Wan's voice but got halfway before a sharp pain in your neck forbade you from completing the task. It didn't matter because the bearded man was crouched down in front of you, hands on either side of your head as his worried eyes penetrated through your skull, calloused thumbs trailing soothing circles on your cheeks.

You offered a weak, blood stained and probably toothless smile before gasping weakly, 'Hello there.' It was punctuated by a series of sharp, wheezy coughs. 

'This isn't the time for jokes Y/N,' Obi-Wan grumbled, turning to get the attention of a medic before you painfully reached out and stopped him, shaking your head rather pathetically. 

_Kriff, I hate being injured._

'No,' you swallowed, 'No, let them tend to the c-clones -' 

'What sort of martyrdom bullsh-'

' _Obi_!' you pleaded, 'Do you ever shut up! Please, I'll be okay and those men deserve it more, I can heal.'

He stared at you, his bottom lip being kneaded by his teeth as he stoked his beard, the sight causing you to blush. _It has to be the blood loss_ you internally jested, _you only feel fuzzy because of the blood loss._ But you knew that you were lying to yourself. Ever since Naboo, when you had settled your eyes on an older, more handsome Obi-Wan who had held you as you slept you had started to feel a tug somewhere deep down within you whenever he was around. Things had only been amplified when you read his thoughts back on Geonosis, when you discovered how much you meant to him. It had sparked hopes that he could perhaps in some shape or form feel the same as you, but this was Obi-Wan. You knew his heart was already claimed by the Duchess on Mandalore, no matter how much he would deny it when Anakin, Quinlan and Aayla teased him about it. 

Obi-Wan's arms scooping you up from the floor and pressing you against his firm chest broke you from your thoughts. The flush on your cheek only burned brighter and you were were suddenly grateful for the streak of blood which covered half your face. 

'Well my dear, since you refused professional help, I guess you're going to have to accept mine,' he shot you that shit-eating grin that made your stomach lurch as you looked up at him, head resting on his shoulder as he carried you to his quarters, 'Think of me as you're own private nurse,' and he winked. 

_Curse you, curse you, curse you._

Usually you'd have retorted but right now you felt like drowning in his spicy-mint and old-book scent, closing your eyes to ingrain every moment of this into your memories. The rough feeling of his cloak rubbing against your cheek, the gentle way his fingers pressed into your skin and how his board chest felt pressed flush against you. Gently, he sat you on his bed, leaving you briefly to retrieve a med-pack. Popping back into your limited line of vision, you realized that the Jedi Knight was blushing too, a hand scratching the back of his neck bashfully. 

'What?' You croaked. 

'Um,' he approached you slowly, 'Is it okay if I remove your robes? Only I can't really heal your injuries if they glued to your robes.' 

'Always the gentleman,' you whispered, giving him a nod. You had to grin a little, you knew it wasn't that Obi-Wan hadn't ever seen a naked woman before, he was a man after all and an attractive one at that who you had often seen doing the walk of shame, but because it was _you,_ one of his best friends. You felt your stomach fall a bit, knowing you were to be confined to that it's-awkward-to-see-you-naked role because he viewed you as family. 

Gently, Obi-Wan peeled your outer-robes off, discarding the burnt and shredded garments carelessly across the room. You shot him a glare. 

'What? It's not like you're going to wear them again, they barely exist anymore, even Aayla wouldn't risk to wear them,' he chuckled, moving to pull your equally destroyed tunic off, rough fingertips grazing your skin causing you to hiss sharply. 

'Look,' you grumbled, trying to avoid eye-contact with him as he rolled the material up your body, careful not to cause you any pain, 'As a Jedi I don't have a lot of possessions -'

'Bull! You have more blankets in that room of yours that a spoiled Senator -'

You puffed as he discarded the tunic, suddenly aware of your almost nudity and crossing your hands across your chest,' _As a Jedi I don't have a lot of possessions_ ,' you started again, only drawing a chuckle from the golden-haired man. His hands on your hips, pulling you gently to your feet silenced you as he slowly peeled your blood stained trousers off. It felt like he was peeling your first layer of skin off and you winced. 

He noticed your discomfort, whispering in a husky tone that made a warmth pool between your legs, 'I'm sorry my dear, here -' he sat you back down, reaching out with bacta-spray and starting to apply it to the wound on your head and then mopping up the cakey blood that had flooded your eye socket. Up close you studied his face, how his skin had become sun-kissed during all the days in the battlefields, how more lines had etched themselves into his face but you were there to recall them this time, how adorable his little mole was. 

'Y/N,' he chuckled, 'Do you mind me asking what you're doing?'

'Huh?' you blinked, suddenly aware that you had reached out to touch that little beauty mark. A new more ferocious blush splattered across your cheeks as you yanked your hand back, stammering like a teenager only making him laugh further as he moved to treat the wound on your shoulder. 

He moved slowly, appealing bacta-spray to each open wound, taking breaks every time a series of cruses would spill out of your lips or you would flinch. Upon meeting bruises he would close his eyes and lay his warm palms upon your skin as he force-healed them, eyes shut in concentration, the tip of his tongue poking through his plump lips. Then he would knead the healed skin gently, eliciting small moans that you hoped didn't sound as explicit as you thought. Everywhere his fingers touched seemed to explode in warm flames that licked that heat deep within. You never wanted to leave this moment. Here you felt warm and safe, protected by one of the fiercest and strongest warriors in the galaxy who just seemed so damn docile and loving at the moment. 

_Satine is so kriffing lucky._

Your bliss was interrupted by Obi-Wan's door swinging open and Anakin stumbling in. A moment passed, perhaps a week, a month, maybe a year? He gazed upon you two, you in your undergarments, Obi-Wan crouched on his knee's in front of you and a dark red stain inked its way across his cheeks that you knew was mirrored upon yours and Obi-Wan's face. 

'S-sorry we'll, um...' Anakin stumbled, spinning on his heel and planting his palm across Ahsoka's eyes who cried in protest, 'In a while Obi-Wan.' 

'Anakin! Wait -' Obi-Wan yelped, but his friend had already gone. 

Silence crept in. The man looked at you. Laughter exploded from your lips and he joined you, wiping tears as you both gasped for air. 

He composed himself eventually, handing you one of his tunic's and a pair of trousers, 'Here, you can have these. I better go and find those two nerf-herders before we're the next source of temple gossip,' he grinned. 

You rolled your eyes as you shrugged on his clothes which swamped you. Suddenly, you were aware of Obi-Wan's gaze and a wave of vulnerability rolled through your bones as he crept closer, hands resting gently on your shoulder, a soft and lazy smile lying on his face. 

'Be more careful with yourself Y/N, I don't know what I'd do if I lost you,' he murmured, planting a chaste kiss to your forehead before he swept away acting as if he hadn't just poured a molten lava through your nerves. Weak at the knees, you perched on his bed, fingertips resting on the shadow of his lips imprint. 

_Kriff._


	3. Episode Three - Touch ***

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW - don't read if you're uncomfortable or underage etc. 
> 
> This is fluffy and smutty and very long - hopefully fulfilling everyone's lockdown desires.
> 
> Adi Gallia is dead. 
> 
> Obi-Wan had been tortured. 
> 
> Anakin hasn't smiled sincerely in months. 
> 
> Your whole world is crumbling down around you and all you can do is lift a tumbler of something borderline toxic to your mouth and hope to drown your fears. Yet, as the dark gloom of war appears to swirl infinitely around you, its tendrils thrusting into every aspect of your life, there remains one last glimmer. 
> 
> Obi-Wan Kenobi. 
> 
> And tonight, he has come just for you.

**The Outlander Club**

Adi Gaillia was dead, skewered on the horns of that brutish Zabrak as if she were nothing more than Nerf meat. Curling your fingers around the shot glass, you fired the burning liquid down your throat, fighting against the familiar prick of tears that seemed to be never-ending in the past few days. When did this war start to have no end? When did it start claiming the lives of everyone you deemed family at such a rapid pace? At what point had the Force turned against the Jedi and left them to the relentless jaws of death. So many lives lost, so much blood spilt, more and more Jedi thinking of joining The Lost Twenty. Everywhere you looked you found the viscous tendrils of the darkside, impaling innocent hearts and gorging upon them; it seemed to permeate through the air, like a heavy smog that forced its way within with each inhalation, waging an internal battle against one's morality.

It whispered coaxing words, _Give in to your hatred, seize revenge for your lost companions; Maybe if you gave in to your passion you could have fought harder, better - maybe Obi-Wan wouldn't have been tortured; maybe Anakin's smiles would still reach his eyes and maybe Adi Gaillia would be alive._

You swallowed, the lump that had apparently wedged its way into your throat threatening to steal your breath as you motioned to the bartender. Whenever you shut your eyes, blocking out the dingy bar that was splattered with neon flashing lights, Adi's beaming smile ripped it's way into your mind, her cheerful giggle ringing in your ears as you imagined her limp body slumped over the head of that monster. Slamming the shot glass down on the bar, you motioned for another, earning a questioning glance from the server which was rapidly redacted after you replied with a glare that could kill. 

Everyone had already appeared to move on. To have forgotten how Adi would fight until the end, how she would always bring a hot cup of caf sprinkled with just enough Bantha milk and sugar to you when she saw you pouring over holograms late at night, how she would listen unreservedly to your problems, never passing judgment and only offering advice. It hurt. It ached in such a new and profound way that you didn't truly know how to deal with it. You knew what the council would say, _meditate and release your feelings and attachment into the Force_ , but it felt impossible, inconceivable. Grief was like a Krayt dragon that had inched its way into your very being, jaws engulfing both your heart and brain. Anytime you tried to be rational, to follow the Code, it would clench those jaws, drawing excruciating agony from deep within that made your whole body limp with pain. It slithered around your thoughts, refusing to let you forget, whenever you tried to pack the memories away, it would burn the fragile boxes to smoldering ashes, releasing the thoughts to wreak havoc over and over again. As the war waged on, it became increasingly harder to subdue the beast, to resist the urge to give into the darkside. 

This was why you found yourself getting blind drunk in the dingiest bar on the whole of Curoscant, which at this point had become a messy blur of lights and a dull buzz to background your self pity. The whole place was spinning, and you were faintly aware of how your head felt too heavy for your neck, lolling right to left as you struggled to motion for another drink. 

Just as the violet coloured spirit was placed before you, a large hand prevented you from grabbing it.

"Slisten," you slurred, your free hand dipping to rest on your saber, "you don't want to messsss with me."

Obi-Wan chortled gently, his aurelien eyes trying to maintain contact with yours, "Oh, trust me I know," squeezing your hand softly, he brought it to his lips and placed a gentle, chaste kiss there, "but I think you've had enough my dear, and that I haven't had any, so it's only fair I get this one." He punctuated this with gulping down the drink. 

When you managed to get your gaze to focus on him, you were fully convinced he had to be the most beautiful man in the whole galaxy. Even as your sight appeared to pulse making shapes bulge in the background, it was still evident that he was jaw-dropping, with his copper-tinted hair swept back from his face, curling softly just at the nape of his neck, invoking the urge to run your fingers through each silky strand. The beard that had only been patches of hair across his cheeks back on Tatooine had bloomed into a thing of majesty, emphaising how much he had grown since your adventures together moons ago as padawans. A supple but melancholic smile laid on his face as he looked down at you, thumb running over your knuckles. 

'Nerf-herder, that cost me credits."

Sighing softly, letting his head dip, he retorted, "Well, think of it like this, you have spent a fair amount of credits tonight and my arrival has in theory saved you from spending more, really I'm your economic knight in shining armour."

Hiccuping, you flicked sluggishly at his tan robes, "What _dashing_ armour." 

Obi-Wan grinned, 'I'll have you know these are the finest robes a Jedi can wear! I am the envy of the entire temple, no, the entire Senate! Even the Senators from Naboo quake when I enter the room, don't you see how they billow behind me, Padme says it's like I'm walking on clouds -"

"Urgh," you groaned, using your fingertips to knead your suddenly swimming head, "Do you always talk so much bantha-fodder?"

"According to Anakin, yes, but I really see myself as a rival to Yoda in wisdom."

"You're insufferable," you sighed, trying to focus on something that wasn't pulsating in the flashing neon light hues, feeling your stomach trembling in time with the pulses. You hadn't been sick from alcohol in many years, and you were trying very hard to maintain this reputation. Though, it felt like a futile battle. 

"And you're inebriated."

"No, I'm too drunk to underssstand your Mr. Big-Fancccy-Words."

"I can tell, your retorts are rather _dull_ tonight," he said, pushing a glass of water towards you, _where had that come from,_ "Now, please don't pull a Quinlan and try to stab me for giving you water."

Accepting the refreshment tentatively, you took a deep gulp that was simultaneously the best and worst thing you had ever drank. On one hand it fought back the dryness that had coated your tongue like the sand flooded floor of Tatooine, but on the other, it had appeared to make your stomach somersault. I _t would only be fitting if tonight would be the first night in decades that you had thrown up._

Meekly, you whimpered, "Obi..."

He glanced at you, his eyes going wide and you knew what specter was staring back him. You could almost feel your skin turn the three shades lighter, an undertone of green swamping its way across your face as you grew clammy. 

"Obi I think I'm going to hurl."

As soon as the words spilled from your lips, the Jedi Knight clasped one of your hands in his and was rushing you out of the throbbing club and into the buzzing Coruscant night. The whole planet seemed to vibrate with life, spacecraft flitting in every direction over your head, prismatic hues punctuating through the dreary black and grey shadows, showing how even the most hostile of places could harbor energy, how even in the darkest of times hope could prevail. Air saturated with scents: freshly cooked street food; emissions; vomit; other beings; the stench of the bar behind you, rushed its way through your body, forcing you to double over and gag, emptying the contents of your stomach. Yet, the whole time your body purged itself, you could only focus on the vitality of your surroundings. The way in which everyone and everything appeared to act as one organism, all the same cogs in one giant machine, all oozing the same breath of life.

Obi-Wan's large hands drew you back to your own situation, his rough fingertips rubbing small circles on your back as the other hand gathered your hair and held it away from the splashes. He murmured words of encouragement and sympathy and you wanted to reply, to thank him, to apologise for making such a show of yourself, but bit your tongue in the fear that if you opened your mouth again you'd just spew instead of form sentences. Maker knows how long you two were stuck in that position, but eventually you felt Obi-Wan stir you towards a taxi.

He settled in beside you, one arm wrapped around you lower back, his fingertips tracing comforting patterns on your hip as he leaned forward to tell the driver where to go. The taxi lurched into movement, your surroundings blending together like a black, grey, white, blue and pink pattern that sprinted across the window, making your stomach flinch. You pinched your eyes shut, inhaling deeply. It felt like you were drowning, suffocating on the man's earthy scent as his gentle touch caused electricity to skitter its way across your skin, elevating your breathing and forcing a blush to march across your face as an ache grew between your legs. 

Huffing, you began, "Obi-," but didn't know where to go with it, feeling your voice die on your lips almost immediately. It was as if every one of your thoughts were sinking to the bottom of a pond and algae ballooned up to engulf them. When you frantically dipped your hands in, trying to gather the words you wanted to say, _Obi-Wan I love you; I want you; I'm sick of this war; I can't lose anyone else; please just for tonight can we pretend to be other people,_ you only pulled out slimy, sticky weeds that wrapped themselves around your fingers as the thoughts you wanted to voice sunk further to the bottom of that murky pool. Although you hadn't opened your eyes, you could feel his gaze bore into you as you stammered. You could always feel his gaze, you could always sense his presence, it was like some form of gravity had you tied to him and you could only fight against it for so long. 

Tonight, you just wanted to crash into him. 

The journey to the Temple was barely comprehensible, as was the walk up to your room. All you were aware of was the burning heat emitting from where his fingers were sprawled across your waist and lower ribs, how his shoulder propped your head up as he pushed open your door. He was humming gently as he stirred you into your refresher, pushing you softly so you were sat on the edge of your tub. Mint enveloped the air as he gently grabbed your chin, tilting your head upwards as he waved your toothbrush in front of you. 

"Say ahhh," he whispered.

Popping your mouth open, you let the man brush your teeth, aware of how ludicrous this whole situation was, but also how it was oddly intimate. He gave you a cup to spit into, you did so, he rinsed it out. Then he turned around with a damp towel and gently brushed at your face and neck, removing any bits of vomit or smog that clung to your skin. His gentle touch, his close proximity, the way his eyes softened when they looked upon you caused your chest to concave, robbing you of all your oxygen. It was like he could read your mind, that he knew what you needed right now was for someone to notice your vulnerability and look after you. 

You couldn't be a General every hour of every day. 

Tear pricked your eyes yet again and he stopped, crouching down to cup your face, "No, no, no, my dear one," he murmured, brushing hair from your face, "No more crying for tonight, come on." 

He pulled you up gently, placing another kiss to the top of your head when seemed to only aggravate your state before guiding you into your room. Fatigue weighed down every bone in your body as you slumped onto your bed, letting out a stifled moan at the sudden comfort. Obi-wan rummaged through drawers before pulling out one of your sleep shirts, it lay limp in his large hands as he stood above you again.

"Can I?" he gestured to your outfit. 

You nodded. 

His calloused fingertips rolled across your skin, causing goosebumps to burst out like hives as he removed your shirt. You caught your bottom lip between your teeth, drawing blood as you continued to fight back tears as each tender and loving touch pushed you into new emotional depths you hadn't known before. Just like the time he treated your wounds in battle, he tugged you softly to your feet and let you step out of your trousers, watching them pool to the floor like a black shadow. Any other day you'd have felt embarrassed about your bright blue, Loth-Cat printed underwear, but the smile they put on Obi-Wan's face filled you with such an intense warmth that burnt away any shame. You were temporarily blinded as he pulled the shirt over your head, hands resting on your waist as he peered into your eyes.

It felt as if time had stopped. 

He cleared his throat as he stood up, a pale pink dusting across his cheeks, "Come on, tuck yourself in."

He pulled back your bedsheets and you slipped under them. Suddenly the algae in your mind slipped back, only an inch or two, but it allowed one thought to rise to the surface, one thought to become vocal, "Obi-Wan?"

"Yes my dear?"

"Please stay?" you begged.

Blue irises met yours, and you could see his thought process sprawl across his face. How this could be interpreted by the council, how it could seem that he was turning his back on the code, how it could appear perverse because you were drunk, _just for once could he not be so chivalrous._ He came to a conclusion and sat on your bed, starting to unlace his boots and kicking them to the floor. Fireworks exploded throughout your chest as he removed his outer layers, leaving him in his thin tunics which left little to the imagination. 

Obi-Wan shuffled slowly to the top of your bed, never breaking eyesight as he laid down beside you, resting his head on his out-stretched left arm. Everything seemed to melt away. The pain in your stomach, your tears, the Krayt dragon that plagued you with never-ending grief. They all subsided as you reached out to take Obi-Wan's right hand. 

...

...

_You arched into his touch, feeling oppressed by the flames that licked your skin whenever his fingers fluttered and the internal heat that swarmed throughout your body demanding more from him, needing more from him. His head was buried in your neck, pressing hot open-mouthed kisses to your skin drawing soft pants from your lips, your chest rising and falling in rhythmic pulsations like a beating heart. Had he spoken? You didn't know, you couldn't hear him over the thundering sound of your blood as it roared through your body, the only thing you could focus on was how his hands had slipped under your shirt trailing almost lazily up your skin to rest just on the edge of your breasts._

_His touch was infatuating, maddening, torturous as his lips left your neck, leaving you feeling empty as he leaned back. Obi-Wan's eyes were wide, irises spiraling like a wrathful sea as he stared down at you with such ferality, making the internal fire engulf you in ecstatic pain. The tip of his tongue danced across his bottom lip as his fingers strolled across your breasts._

_"Oh, Y/N." He hummed._

"Y/N. Y/N," his clipped Coruscanti accent pulled you from your dream abruptly, making you wake with a start. A frustrated moan left your mouth against your will as you felt a throb echo its way throughout your body, which only became amplified by his intense glare. Passing vehicles threw dancing shadows across his face as he watched you intently, pink blooming across his cheeks. 

"Your thoughts were... _loud_." he whispered, voice hoarse. 

Your breath hitched in your throat as red hot shame stabbed you, and you could barely manage to cover your face with your fingers, pulling your knees up to your chest in order to cocoon yourself from his sight. Everything felt so vulnerable, so fragile. In the wake of everything that had happened recently, you just could not face his rejection. Warm, fat tears swelled and marched down your cheeks as you cursed yourself, knowing that this could be the last moment you'd get with Obi-Wan, knowing all too well that his need to be chivalrous would demand him to place some distance between you two. To give you room to get over him. To protect his devotion to Satine. 

A sob cracked its way out of your chest as you reminded yourself how futile your adoration was. How all the nights you would lay in bed, whether at the temple or battlefield, and search through the Force hoping to find his signature to relieve fears that he had died would go unnoticed. How the ache between your legs and the desires in your mind would never be fulfilled because his blood and flesh were ardent lovers to _somebody else._

Obi-Wan's rough, battle-worn fingers broke through your protective, finger-laced barrier, moving to cup your cheeks. He brushed away the warm tears and despite your knowledge, you leaned into the touch. He worked his bottom lip between his teeth before murmuring, "My dear one, I told you no more crying tonight," and he leaned into you. You were driven towards his lips by every heave of your pulsing heart and when yours met his you felt as though you were going to implode. 

His kiss was soft, mellow and you melted into it. It was slow at first, giving you time to explore the way he felt and taste, but when he snaked one hand up into your hair and the other down to your lower back, pulling you onto his lap, his mouth became more urgent, more demanding. You could find no reasons to resist him and when his tongue pressed lightly against your bottom lip, you complied, opening yourself completely to him. A moan rumbled in Obi-Wan's throat as your fingers buried themselves in his hair, tugging gently as he explored your mouth. Every touch, every sound, his taste was burned into your mind as you pulled back, lips apart but foreheads resting against one another. 

"Satine -" you panted, heart wincing in pain at the thought of her.

Obi-Wan smiled softly, large hands cupping your neck, thumbs grazing your cheeks as he said, "Satine was my past. You are my future. You have been since Naboo, every time you took a blast for me, every time you made me laugh, made me question myself to be a better man you became the only person I could devote myself to. I am devoted to you, Y/N, in all sincerity."

Words failed you. How ethereal this whole situation appeared, it was if one of your dreams had manifested themselves into the physical realm and became tangible, palpable, it didn't have an expiration time. Obi-Wan was here, his fingers resting on your skin, his spit on your mouth, his growing erection pressing against your core. He was here and he had confessed his _devotion_ to you. 

"Obi -"

"I know." 

A smile tugged at your lips, of course he knew. This was a man who knew you better than anyone else in the whole galaxy. He could pick out your favorite night shirt without your influence, he would bring extra snacks with him on missions knowing that you'd forget and how grumpy you became when hunger would ebb away at your nerves; he would always brew an extra cup of tea when you camped together, knowing not to add sugar to it; he knew you liked one pillow to place between your legs when you slept and so would always bring another one with him so you didn't have to. There had been so many examples of his devotion to you, but you had always picked to ignore them, terrified that you were interpreting them wrong, because Obi-Wan was a notorious swooner and you feared to be burned by the flames of rejection. Your pride had always made you resent the idea that you had become just another one of the men and women who fell to Obi-Wan's feet, especially because they didn't know him like you did. 

He cupped the back of your head, tilting it backwards as he leaned up to press a gentle kiss to your neck, "Let me show you how devoted I am."

Your head was swimming, and you could just about manage to nod in arrangement. Obi-Wan huffed softly, continuing his attack on your neck which caused your chest to contract and a gasp to slip past your lips. His warm, strong arms engulfed you as he lowered you back onto your bed, him hovering above as he held himself up with his arms. Warmth oozed from his body and you arched up into it, enjoying the harsh contrast between him and your cool bed sheets. 

The throb between your legs grew more and more intense with each kiss he placed on your skin and when he parted your legs with a gentle push of his knee, you felt yourself pressing your core against his thigh trying to relieve some of the pressure. Your actions brought a chuckle to the Jedi's lips.

"Don't be so impatient Y/N," his voice was husky as he trailed his lips down your neck, kissing the valley between your breasts through your shirt, "I promise I'll take _care_ of you." 

_Maker above._ His words made you feel feral as he continued his path down your body. 

"I didn't realise that mouth of yours followed you into the bedroom," you stammered, chest heaving as you propped yourself up on your elbows to look down at him. He was resting in between your legs, fingers sprawled across your inner thighs as he gently pushed your them apart and down into the mattress. The sight should have been illicit. It caused warmth to pool in your lower stomach and you to bite your lip in frustration. 

"Oh, my darling," his voice was like silk as he rested his cheek against your right thigh, "You have no idea."

You cried out as your arms were suddenly pulled up and pinned above your head, making you fall back softly onto your bed with a gentle _thud._ You couldn't help but giggle at the rather inappropriate use of the Force as you writhed against his grip uselessly. 

"Hmm, not sure the council would approve of the Force being used in such a manner, _Master Kenobi_." 

From your stained vision you saw something flash in his eyes at your teasing as his snaked a finger along the edge of your underwear, making your stomach flutter in anticipation. 

He said rather playfully, "I didn't compliment you on your choice of undergarments earlier," he grinned as red stained your cheeks. 

"Hey, I didn't plan on anyone seeing them."

Placing a warm kiss that turned into an open-mouthed pressure on the soft skin of your inner thigh, marking it, Obi-Wan groaned, "It doesn't matter, it's not like you'll need them tonight."

To prove his words were true, Obi-Wan hooked his warm fingers under the edge of your underwear and pulled them tantalisingly slow down your legs, tossing them carelessly over his shoulders. And suddenly, you were bare before him, glistening and throbbing with a long suppressed ache and excitement. You could feel his gaze as he stared at your wet core and it made you throw your head back and let out a moan. It was all too much. The pressure pinning your wrists down, preventing you from lacing your fingers in his hair, his overall sudden lack of contact, the way you could feel his eyes burning a hole through you, as if he were committing every scar, every freckle on your legs and hips into his mind, how he stared at the soft, wet flesh before him, aching for his touch. 

"Obi-Wan," you whined, wiggling and arching your hips. When he used the Force to ground them to the bed, imprisoned just like your wrists, an impatient moan escaped past your lips.

"Yes darling?"

"Stop being a _kriffing_ bastard."

"Then tell me what you want," he purred, head resuming its place on your inner thigh as he drew soft circles around your mound, almost touching you were you needed him, but never giving you the relief you wanted. 

"T-touch me." 

This earned you a soft hum, "Maybe if you ask nicely."

You groaned, voice coming out as a plea, " _Please Obi,_ touch me!"

"Anything for you, my love," he whispered as if you had been the one preventing your pleasure this whole time, fingers immediately locating the bundle of nerves that needed him most. His calloused fingers worked the nub with a fast, steady pace that caused you to mewl and curl your toes. His warm breath dusted across your skin as he panted, watching you slowly start to come undone under his fingers and you wanted to arch your hips up off the bed, to gain more pressure, to reach down and make him touch you harder, but his Force grip denied you the privilege. A jagged, frustrated cry bubbled out of your throat as you felt your cunt flutter, close but not close enough. 

Then suddenly the pressure was gone as he rubbed two fingers up and down your slit, slickening them with your own wetness and slipping them inside of you. You moaned in pleasure as Obi-Wan pumped his fingers experimentally in and out of you, listening to your mewling and soft cries and then his fingers glided across that spot that made your eyes roll back into your skull and moans to die on your lips. He groaned, sitting up on his knees as he laid his free palm flat on your stomach, as if he were trying to feel himself inside you as he moved his digits faster, curling them as if he were pulling the trigger of a blaster. He put all of his attention into working you in that _one_ spot, whispering words of encouragement that you could barely comprehend.

A tight coil started to turn in your lower stomach, white spots flashing in your vision as you struggled to keep quiet. Incoherent babbles spilled out of your lips as you tossed your head from side to side, a deep red flush spreading across your chest as Obi-Wan finger-fucked you into oblivion. He stared down at you, his fully erect cock throbbing uncomfortably against the confinements of his boxers as he teased your warm, wet folds. Maker, how he just wanted to strip himself of his remaining clothing and take you right then and there. But tonight was all about you.

Obi-Wan started to work your clit with his free thumb, and your lips were drawn in that perfect 'O' shape as the coil in your stomach snapped. Piercing, sensational waves of pleasure rolled throughout your body as your cunt clenched around the man's fingers, making a string of curses spill from his lips. He leaned down, catching your lips in his, swallowing your cries and released his hold on your wrists and hips. Immediately, you arched upwards, grinding yourself against him, arms wrapping themselves around his muscular, ardent shoulders, trying to grasp onto anything to anchor you as the waves of your orgasm stormed through your body, leaving you a trembling mess.

"That's my little one," he murmured against your mouth, removing his fingers from your sopping core and trailing patterns on your hips. Soft kisses were placed on your forehead, your nose, chin and eyelids and you felt overwhelmed by emotions you had only ever grazed before. 

A few minutes passed as Obi-Wan let you catch your breath and then you reached out to grab him, fingers curling around his hard, throbbing shaft. You gasped gently, a feeling of intense pride flowering throughout you as you realised that you had caused him to feel like this. The great General Obi-Wan Kenobi, The Negotiator, one half of the notorious pair, was a moaning, erect mess at just your touch. Before you do much else, Obi-Wan's fingers moved your hands softly off of him and he stood up off the bed. For a moment dread replaced the pride, as you feared he was regretting his actions. 

But then he pulled his tunic off his body and your eyes ravaged their way across his bare skin. It wasn't the first time you had seen him shirtless, far from it, but under this new context his nude flesh wielded a whole new power over you. Slowly, making eye contact with you, Obi-Wan gently pushed his trousers down his thick, muscular thighs, inch by inch. A powerful blush you had never felt before stained your cheeks as you stared at him in all his glorious nudity. 

To say he was well endowed would be an understatement, and you followed the dark thatch of hair surrounding his cock up his stomach, to where it spluttered across his firm chest. Tanned, freckled stained skin glared back at you, demanding your touch and lips, but you felt glued to the spot as you took him all in. _Gods, he was beautiful._ Every freckle and mole painted his skin like the night sky and it rolled and rippled over his firm, defined muscles as he stalked towards the bed. Scars littered his body, some small dots barely noticeable if you hadn't been there when he had earned them, others large gashes which reached from one side of his body to the other. Rather than interrupt the artwork of his skin, they enhanced it. Perhaps to another they would have been a ghastly reminder of the war, instilling fear as they highlighted just how powerful, how _savage_ Obi-Wan could be, as for every scar he gained, an enemy he took down. Yet, to you, they only recalled how fiercely protective Obi-Wan was, how talented he was, how he made battle seem easy. _Lazy._

It was their slightest touch of imperfection upon what would-have-been perfect that gave Obi-Wan an air of sweetness and power because they were what gave him humanity, mortality. They were the perfect reminder that he was not the Chosen One, that he did not possess some divine power that made him fearless in battle, he was not immortal. They showed just how _alive_ Obi-Wan was, how genuine he was, how _strong_ he was. 

Overwhelmed with an indescribable feeling that you could only compare to being thrown off a cliff and free-diving through the air, you stared up into his warm, calm eyes as he stood above you.

"Can I?" he asked, which seemed to become his catchphrase, as he tangled his fingers in your shirt. 

You nodded and the man swiftly had the garment pulled off of you, thrown somewhere with the rest of your discarded clothes. He leaned down and caught your lips against his in a frenzied kiss that stole your breath. You caught his bottom lip between your teeth, giving it a sharp bit which earned you a growl as he forced you back to the top of your bed, stilling leaning over you. Something was pounding impossible hard, and you couldn't determine whether it was your heart or his and you swiftly decided you didn't care as he brushed against you, causing you to moan.

With a firm touch, Obi-Wan grabbed your hips and pulled you down towards him, positioning himself between your spread legs as he latched eye contact with you. Your breasts heaved with each breath, heart hurling blood around your body at such a fast pace that you feared it would shattered your rib-cage with each trembling _thump!_ This had to be a dream, this couldn't be real, there was no way the man you had craved after for years was actually here, naked, in your bed. 

Such thoughts were expelled as he rubbed his head against your slick folds, drawing a choked moan from you. 

"Is this okay?" he murmured and when you nodded you head, a bashful smirk scribbled across his face as he positioned himself. Inhaling a shaky breath, you found your fingers snaking themselves in his silky hair yet again and then in one swift movement, he entered you. In one jerk of his hips, Obi-Wan made you suddenly so aware of what you had been missing your entire life, what always seemed lacking when other men had taken his place. It was him. 

It was always him. 

He moved against you at a gentle pace at first, giving you time to adjust to him and trying to figure out where he could position himself to hit you in _that_ spot. When he found it, he moved faster, harder, pounding against you almost mercilessly. Everything else in the world seemed to slip away. Anxieties over the war, grief, anger, it all disintegrated. All that remained was the feeling of Obi-Wan Kenobi moving in and out of you, drawing moans and curses from your lips; how his beard scratched against your neck; how his fingers gripped your hips so tightly it felt like they would bruise; how for the second time that night that familiar, glorious coil twisted deep within your lower stomach. 

With a snarl, Obi-Wan hitched your knees up over his shoulders and pushed into you from this new, deeper angle. You threw your head back, a hoarse scream escaping you as Obi-Wan rested his hands on either side of your head. 

"Shh, my darling," he panted, hips never missing a beat, "You don't want the whole temple to know, do you?"

His hair was tousled, his bangs falling down onto your face as he dipped his head into the crook of your neck. Usually, you'd have retorted with something, but anytime a word seemed to form on your lips, Obi-Wan would glide his hips into yours and the ability to speak would escape you, instead leaving you as murmuring, gasping mess. He was panting in your ear, some were laced with groans and occasionally a curse or phrase would pass his lips. 

" _Kriff," "That's my girl," "So good,""Ah, fuck,"_

And then he appeared to grow harder, firmer within you and his cock twitched, driving waves of pulsating pleasure throughout your whole body as the wire coil in your lower stomach grew tenser. Your nails dragged down Obi-Wan's back, trying to find an anchor on his body as he fucked you relentlessly, beard scratching against the sensitive skin on your neck, knees slung over his shoulder, breasts bouncing in time with his thrusts. 

The whole thing was so lewd. 

And with that thought, you unraveled for the second time, clenching down on Obi-Wan as your orgasm ripped its way through every nerve in your body. The Jedi Knight growled, cock twitching and thrusts stuttering as he rode with you through your waves of pleasure, his last movements almost painful as he worked against your already spent and exhausted body. Obi-Wan came with a guttural groan, his teeth nipping the skin of your shoulder making you cry out as he split himself inside of you. 

You laid there, a tangle of limbs, unsure where you started and he ended, struggling to get air back into your lungs, becoming aware of the layer of sticky sweat that clung to yours and Obi-Wan's skin. 

And for the first time since Adi's death, you felt whole. 


	4. Episode Four - Peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a soft, fluffy chapter. 
> 
> It's set just before Obi-Wan goes to Mandalore for the second time (hopefully you know what this means - if not I recommend watching the Clone Wars episode 'The Lawless' from season five)
> 
> I have included Siri Tachi in this (if you don't know who she is read Jude Watson's Jedi Apprentice / Jedi Master's and their secrets or do a quick google) I am completely aware she has been made non-canon but at the same time I don't care. Obviously I've altered certain things about the timeline etc. I am just drawing on several different texts/versions of Obi-Wan to mold my own. (However I do recommend Watson's texts if you want more young padawan Obi and Qui-Gon - they are ABSOLUTELY heartbreaking!!! There is also the canon text Master and Apprentice by Claudia Gray) 
> 
> I honestly have no idea where I was going with this? Just felt like some soft obi before I trek down a path of angst and sadness again. 
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoy and that it isn't complete garbage. 
> 
> Stay safe! x

**Coruscant**

Fat raindrops exploded upon the window, streaking their way down the glass with a pit-patter that engulfed and infected the unusual silence of your room. From the slit in your curtains you observed the dark clouds which bloomed across the early morning sky, thunder rumbling low in the distance as jagged strips of lightning cut through the darkness, temporarily staining your room with hues of silver and purple. 

Obi-Wan's large and rather weighty arm was draped lazily across your hip, his other tucked under the pillow your head was resting upon. His bare chest rose and fell in steady, heavy breaths, oblivious to the turmoil occurring in the sky above you two. He actually appeared to be in a deep slumber for once, his eyes were not flickering behind his lids, his mouth didn't twitch and his face had morphed into a cool, soft marble. 

A content hum left your lips as you shuffled closer, basking in his radiating heat, resting an open palm on his chest, entangling your fingers in the soft curls that were sprinkled across his firm trunk. The thin cream blankets that usually adorned your bed, which you often cocooned yourself in, were pushed down and gathered around the sleeping man's waist, giving you the full display of his toned, freckle and scar etched body. When asleep he appeared just like any other man, he lost his air of ferocity and that piercing glint in his eye that struck fear into enemies hearts. 

In these moments it was easy to forget that the galaxy was being ripped apart by a war, just like the sky was being gorged open by lightning. It was a conflict which had seemed to permeate into every aspect of your life, you couldn't go far without hearing slander of the Separatists, of the Jedi, of the Republic; almost everyone on Coruscant had been shaped by the war in one way or another, yet you felt as if the Jedi had been changed the most. 

Especially the man before you.

In his youth, Obi-Wan had always been rebellious yet logical, stern yet caring. He had loved fiercely, his heart being burnt by women like Satine and Siri and perhaps had the council not paired him with a Master who drew out and strengthened his devotion to the Code, he would have left permanently for one of them many years ago. Qui-Gon's reckless abandonment of many of the council's advice and his initial strained relationship with his padawan had morphed Obi-Wan into a strict rule-abider out of spite. These youthful heartaches had led Obi-Wan to be a cautious and guilt-stricken lover. You could see the shadows of doubt swirling in his eyes sometimes, how he questioned if his resolve had grown weaker, if he should call things off before you became too entangled, whether he should fully come to terms with his emotions and accept them. 

You knew the answer. 

The last ten years of his - no _everyone's_ life had been draining. You could see it by how his shoulders seemed to slump when he thought no one was looking, as if he were burdened with the whole war on his back, how when he looked at Anakin pride and adoration flashed across his face, yet regret and guilt and self-doubt raced to darken his eyes, how Ahsoka made him incredibly proud yet horrifically appalled at the Jedi council and it's involvement in the war. Since Quinlan's recent disappearance on a secret mission and the shudder felt in the Living Force, it was as if the man was starting to buckle under the oppression of the war, of his fears of inadequacy, of his disillusionment with the Council and the internal conflict this caused. It was frightening, distressing to see a man built as if he could take on any opponent and come out triumphant, appear to be toppled by internal strife's. 

This was the answer to his debates. It was true that his resolve had weakened as the years slugged on, melting like sun warmed ice on Ilum, but not for any unjustified reason. The fortress that Obi-Wan had erected around his heart in his youth was crumbling because he could no longer support himself anymore, because he needed someone to slip under his cracks and sooth his festering wounds, to remind him why life was worth stumbling through otherwise he would just give up. 

Thunder crackled through the air as the rain pour grew more incessant, now pounding against the glass like shrapnel. Gently you reached out, cupping his fuzzy cheek in your hand and rolling a thumb against his skin. Recently, you had begun to feel a restlessness whenever you saw Obi-Wan struggle, an internal turmoil whenever you realized that the root cause of his trauma's could be traced back to the Council and their ways. 

They were stunted. They were holding back the Jedi and prolonging the war. They were blind to their own faults, having grown arrogant and pig-headed in their long, uninterrupted reign. They didn't realize that to be a true Jedi, to be truly in touch with the Force, one _had_ to be passionate. Love had to ooze through every fiber of one's being, affection had to erupt from one's fingertips with every touch, because only through warmth could one connect with others. Help others. 

This was the path of realization that you were stumbling down alone, even afraid to voice such beliefs even to the man your heart bled out for, because he was just not ready yet. 

"Enjoying the view?" his sleep softened voice drew you out of your thoughts. 

Your eyes locked with his, a grin spilling across your face as he rubbed his eyes, hair like copper waves splashed recklessly across his head, "Perhaps," you retorted, allowing your hand to fall. 

He only smirked in reply, sitting up and allowing the blankets to pool gracefully around his hips as he stretched. The muscles in his back rippled gently under his skin with each movement and you watched rather regretfully as he tugged on a pair of trousers which hung low on his hips.

Obi-Wan caught your gaze and flashed a grin, arms crossing across his chest as he teased, "I thought you'd have been satisfied after last night?"

You threw him an eye-roll, "Oh you know me Obi-Wan, forever _insatiable_."

This earned you a chuckle. A sound that resonated deep within your heart, that gave your view of the world an extra silver lining, because every time you drew it from his chest pride boomed through yours. He was yours, just as you were entirely, devotedly his. His without an ounce of hesitation, his without complaints, his with every breath and every trembling surge of your heart. Your adoration for each other was tangible, a bond so strong despite his fears that it had almost manifested into a rope that linked the two of you. Both battle scarred and life wounded warriors, who needed someone whom they could drop their walls down around, someone who could look upon the ulcerated Force signature and still find beauty there. 

Love wept through your whole being as you stared fondly at him, watching as he wrapped his body back up in the layers of his tunics. 

"I can't offer you anything that was on the table last night, but I was going to suggest a cup of tea?"

"Please my dear."

Now he was stood before you, flashes of silver and purple erupting across the sky behind him, making his eyes glitter in the early morning darkness, "Hey, that's my phrase," he purred, cupping your cheeks between calloused palms and leaning down to catch your lips. Every time he kissed you, you felt as if you could abandon oxygen and live on his touch, his taste. He stole your breath as if it were nothing and pulled back gently, a soft smirk erupting on his pliable lips. 

"I'll be back in a minute." 

The rich, aromatic scent of tea seeped through the air, a blend from the leaves of a _sapir_ plant, green and fragrant, a relic from Obi-Wan's life as Qui-Gon's padawan. The _clink-clink_ of a spoon chipping against the cups walls told you he was adding honey, and with soft footsteps, Obi-Wan entered your bedroom again, holding a tray with two cups of tea. You accepted yours graciously, cupping it between your palms, using it to replace the warmth you lost when Obi-Wan left the bed.

A few moments of comfortable silence passed between you before Obi-Wan's com-link began to flash. He gave you an apologetic glance, before rising to answer it. 

"Kenobi here."

"Master Kenobi," Mace Windu's voice crackled through the com-link, grating your ears as you ground your teeth, knowing that they were going to take him away again and send him spiraling to his possible death, with Anakin Skywalker by his side, as if they were disposable pawns and not men who had shed blood and tears for the Republic. 

"A rather sensitive message we have for you," he continued. 

You glanced up at Obi-Wan, watching as his eyebrows knitted together in confusion, " _Sensitive_ , Master Windu?"

"Mandalore, it involves," now it was Yoda's voice. 

Obi-Wan staggered slightly, mouth opening just a bit to show the white glint of his teeth. Evident fear and worry, _attachment,_ washed through his features and you knew immediately where his thoughts were arriving. The Duchess was in trouble, so much that she had overcome her pride and requested for the council's assistance. It must be bad in order for her to do that. 

"What's happened? Is Satine -"

"Better, to say in person, this is," Yoda cut Obi-Wan off, "Meet us in the council room, you will. Ten minutes."

The call was cut. You watched as Obi-Wan's shoulder's sank as he thought the worst. Perhaps a more insecure woman would have feared his reaction at such news, believing that Obi-Wan's affections were being redirected to someone else, but, you knew his heart was yours. It always would be, it had been since Tatooine. But this did not mean he had entirely cut off affection for Satine and Siri, he could not love them how they wanted him to, but he cared deeply for them. 

It was one of the reasons that you loved him. 

His worried eyes found yours as he stammered, trying to vocalise an apology, but you cut him short, "Go Obi-Wan, go save her," you smiled meekly, "Just... Just stay safe and come home." 

Obi-Wan was back by you in a stride, cupping a hand in his and raising it to his lips as he pressed a tender, yet powerful kiss to the pulse point on your wrist. 

"I will always come home to you, my dear," he whispered, brushing loose strands of hair from your face as he peered down at you. It was only a momentarily examination of your face, but you knew he was craving every feature of your existence into his memory, just as you did before leaving for a mission. 

_Just in case_. 

Because the last image either of you wanted on your deathbed was of the other. 

Then suddenly you were alone, holding your cup of tea and staring at his full one. 

...

... 

When he returned from Mandalore, a mission he had opted to undertake despite the councils refusal to get involved, Obi-Wan had changed. 

New shadows warped behind his eyes, new lines etched around his face, a new look of disdain and discomfort spread across his face in Council meetings, as if he could smell the rotting skin of the Jedi Council, revealing the corruption from within. 

He lost Satine. 

He never told you what happened on Mandalore, but you knew. 

You could tell by how he threw caution to the wind, and held you tighter than before. Kissed you harder than before. Loved you harder than you thought was possible, it was almost bruising to deal with his overflowing devotion. 

Although adoring his new-found confidence in his love for you, a new darkness stirred deep within yourself as you came to another, unsurprising conclusion. 

The Council had failed Obi-Wan yet again. 


	5. Episode Five - Crushed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I have a plan for how I'm going to continue/conclude this fic - although I doubt my capabilities as a 'writer', so let us just pray that I somehow manifest the power to pull it off okay? 
> 
> Here's an episode detailing relationships with other characters (which I can say will become important in the future so I pinky promise this isn't just a wasted chapter/filler) and how your romantic '''''secret'''' (let's be real Cody, Rex and Ahsoka know everything about everyone) relationship works under the pressure of war. 
> 
> WARNINGS - blood/gore/in detail description of a battle?
> 
> It's a pretty long chapter, lol I dont know anything about self control. But if you get to the end theres like a cute moment of the space family ya know. 
> 
> I really don't know how to like write at all despite doing a Literature degree? Like what are battle scenes? How does one build tension. I just throw that out the window and start in media res.
> 
> Yeah I never know what to say or do here?
> 
> But I hope ye enjoy it!!! 
> 
> As always - stay safe x

**Aggressive Negotiations**

"Ahsoka!" you bellowed.

The young Togruta looked at you with wide doe eyes as the ground beneath her feet began to tremor, small stones and debris vibrating on the dusty rocks as they shook. At your outcry Anakin spun, face clouding in alarm as he processed his chances of reaching his Padawan before the rocks collapsed. 

They were slim to none. 

You, however, were significantly closer. Taking surveillance of your surroundings, enemy forces hailing a rainstorm of yellow gunfire on you and Cody from every direction, you plotted your path to the young one. It would take several dashes behind the scarce sheltering to reach her, and then one final lunge that would send you both spiraling off of the unstable surface into Maker knows where or what.

Inhaling, you rolled your shoulders in anticipation, calling the Force to be one with you and allow you to become coupled with it. To dance yet again as life-long lovers, with each twirl enabling you to spin your lightsaber in a defensive blur, with the Force leading you through every step of the graceful battle. It washed through your bloodstream like an avalanche, quelling the thorns of fear and anxiety that pricked every inch of your mind, which that had injected you with the same dread you felt whenever C3-PO factually stated inevitable horrors. With lungs filled to the brim with air, yet still feeling achingly empty, you lunged from your safety behind the metal ship door that jutted up from the ground. The Force let you stretch your legs out, it surged violent waves of blood to your muscles, let you move with such speed and dexterity towards the next barely excusable source of shelter. 

Somewhere in the distance, you heard Obi-Wan's shouts of protest and you allowed yourself one second to turn your head and search for his face in the rows of troops. Piercing blue eyes impaled you, almost pinning you to the spot as you fought against your time limit to imprint every aspect of his face into your mind - _just in case._ As expected he was side-to-side with Anakin Skywalker, the two heroes of the galaxy who could make anyone believe that no fight was impossible no matter the odds, and he staggered towards your direction as if he were tittering on the edge of a cliff, but Skywalker reached out with his free hand, the other clutching his ignited saber and pulled Obi-Wan back. The younger man locked eyes with you now, and nodded. He trusted you to bring his Padawan back safely. You returned the gesture and felt the Force urge you on your journey, showing you that you didn't have this much time. 

You knew what the Council would say if they were here right now, what they would croon when, _if_ , you returned to Coruscant and retold the details of this "peaceful negotiation". That your actions were not in line with the Code, that you had become too attached to Ahsoka and jeopardised the whole mission in your foolish quest to save her. It was almost impossible not to picture Luminara's face curl in disappointment and misplaced righteousness, there had already been numerous times where she showed how little her Padawan's life meant to her, as if Barriss were the disposable skin of Jogan fruit. 

_Screw the Council._ They could treat new Padawan's as stumbling blocks in their path, but you held a fondness for the younglings. Especially young Ahsoka. 

The Force guided you, allowing you to pump your legs and arms faster before, causing you to crumple your body and bend backwards as shielded Droideka's spewed a torrent of blaster shots just above your head. It told you to take your lightsaber and ignite it with a hiss, punctuating the air and ricocheting the shots back towards the droids as you twisted your body in a somersault past their firing direction. Cody was swift to rain round after round on them to draw their attention away.

You landed with bent knees, palms splayed on the rocks as you gulped fresh air back into your lungs. It had felt as if time had become something malleable, as if you had raked your fingers through it and stretched it out to impossible lengths, and that every step you had just taken took hours to complete, not the mere para-seconds it played out in in reality. Shooting Ahsoka a triumphant smile, you swaggered over to her. 

Just as a Spider Droid fired a spear of red hot laser-beam into the ground at your feet. The rocks cracked, wrinkles erupting across the surface, new crevices exploded over the ground with violent trembles and groans. Ahsoka let a panicked cry pass her lips as her big, sea-blue eyes found yours again. You almost crumpled to the ground right then and there, to see a fifteen year old so torn by the fear of dying, to see in her eyes the desire to live, made you resent the life of a Jedi. 

The unstable rocks beneath your feet left out another, louder pang of pain and you reached out, clutching the young Padawan to your chest, tucking her small head beneath your chin as the rocks began to disintegrate under you. If these were her last moments, you wouldn't let them be without affection like the majority of her life as a Jedi apprentice. Ahsoka wrapped her small, yet strong arms around you as you looked out across the battlefield, finding _him_ almost immediately. He was running towards you, his arm outstretched as he blindly lopped across the distance, Anakin in his trial, deflecting blast after blast. 

You fired him a gentle smile.

He staggered as if you had shot him instead. 

_Oh my Obi, I am sorry._

"Y/N!" he screamed, Anakin's cry of "Snips!" echoing in the background as the floor beneath you opened up like a Sarlacc pit, tentacles of darkness slithering out of the opening and wrapping around yours and Ahsoka's legs, pulling you down.

...

...

Darkness. 

That was all your eyes could discern as you blinked them open, shocked to have even survived the drop. It felt as if you had been out drinking with Quinlan Vos, your head was swamping, a shrill pain drilling into the back of your skull. 

"Master Y/L/N?" Ahsoka's trembling voice called out in the opaque chaos. 

You tried to call back, intending to be reassuring, but instead you could only cough and gasp. It felt as if dust and rock debris had coated your tongue and lungs, with each breath it was like little gravel shards were scraping uncomfortably against your esophagus. Spluttering again, the wretched yet familiar copper taste of blood flooded your mouth and you spat, purging the taste before it made you gag. A few seconds trickled by, and you heard Ahsoka move tentatively towards you, her feet scuffing gently against the ground as she struggled to navigate her way through the shadows. Slowly you ran your tongue along your teeth, locating no gaps and discerning that the blood was the result of an internal wound. 

_Great._

"Y/N?" she was close now, mere centimetres from you. Reaching out into the living Force, you pleaded with it to just give you the strength to comfort the young girl. 

Gulping, you croaked, "I'm here, hang on," and you tried to move but as you started to pull yourself up, you were met with an unbearable painful resistance on your left hand that flared through your whole body, ripping a scream of equal parts shock and agony from your mouth. 

"Y/N?!"

Panting, you raised yourself into a sitting position, suddenly becoming aware of the immense weight that was pinning your left arm down. _Great._

_"_ Um, Ahsoka?"

"Yes."

"I - I think my arm is trapped under a rock." The latter half of the sentence seemed to have sprinted out of your mouth.

A beat passed and you heard the Padawan ignite her lightsaber with a hum. Fearfully, you pinched your eyes shut, not just ready to see the carnage of your limb, and Ahsoka's little surprised gasp did nothing to put your fears to rest. You could still feel your fingers, wiggling them to reassure yourself, but even such a small gesture made you wince in pain so you gave up. 

"I think I can move the rock, but there's a chance that I could cause the whole cave to fall in on top of us."

Inhaling sharply, you thanked the Maker again that C3-PO wasn't trapped down here with you, knowing that he would railed off with the statistics of your arm still being viable after being crushed by rocks, what the chances were that if Ahsoka moved the boulder weighing you down, the whole cave would collapse on top of you and so on. Gritting your teeth, you finally worked up the courage to take a quick glance at your limb. 

It felt worse than it looked. Or at least that's what you thought, considering the fact that a massive rock was obscuring most of the damage. Perhaps it was the green tint of Ahsoka's lightsabers that made it appear less graphic, like something from a holo-movie or a holo-book that you often found the Padawan's gorging upon. 

"That's okay, young one, let's not put our lives in any more danger," you whispered, "My arm can be replaced, we... we cannot."

Ahsoka looked up at you, "But Master, Anakin _hates_ his robotic arm, it hurts him all the time, I know I can do it, I just need -"

"Ahsoka," you said curtly, shocked at how stern your voice could go, "It's not worth it."

For a brief moment, you thought you had been triumphant. But this was Anakin Skywalker's Padawan, the very same Anakin who discarded rule after rule to save anyone he felt remotely loyal to. The same Anakin Skywalker who had been raised by Obi-Wan, who although he would deny it, was begrudgingly proud of his former Padawan's incessant need to save everyone and never reprimanded him enough about it that the habit had become inscribed into Anakin's personality and being.

The Togruta laid her lightsaber flat on the ground, enshrouding the whole cave in a green tint, showing you how it trailed off into two tunnels. They appeared to have been carved out of the stone and a shudder rippled through you as you dared to wonder what could have been large and strong enough to do so. Ahsoka shut her eyes, raising her palms as concentration played across her face, fingertips twitching as the Force poured through every nerve and fiber of her existence, becoming tangible. You gritted your teeth, biting back chastisement in case it startled her and _definitely_ caused your deaths. 

The weight on your left arm suddenly became alleviated, and you flinched, waiting for the rest of the surrounding rocks to come plummeting down around you, but they never did. Ahsoka discarded the culprit somewhere in the distance with a loud, echoing _thud._

Glaring at her, but unable to resist meeting her proud grin with one of your own, you hissed, "You are far too much like Anakin," as you tucked your injured arm into your robes, like a makeshift sling. The limb was limp, sluggish, as if it were just a sack of meat with no bone and you were disgustingly certain that if you listened hard enough, you could hear the smashed shrapnel of your ulna and radius grinding against one another. _How pleasant._

"And is that a bad thing?" she beamed, raising an eyebrow. 

"If he turns out anything like _his_ master," you grumbled playfully, "Then Maker yes."

Ahsoka laughed at this, "Master Skywalker is just a loyal, sarcastic idiot. People think he's foolish, but I just think he's loving."

"Oh I'm aware, but where do you think he learned that?" you projected, uninjured hand reaching down to fumble with your saber on your belt, "You know what? Obi-Wan isn't even scared of dying you know? He's just scared of a boring death." 

The teenager laughed again, and you looked over at her when you finally managed to light your saber, wondering when she had found the time to grow up over the last year. Ahsoka was suddenly so tall, she had suddenly lost the soft puppy fat that clung to her cheeks and her bare skin already bore numerous scars, proclaiming her a warrior. She was blossoming into a strong and powerful Jedi, one whom you knew you'd have been proud to say you even knew, let alone fought alongside for a year. You knew that you had to get out of here, so you could continue to watch her grow up, to see her become the strong woman you pictured in your mind. 

Grimacing, you rose to your feet, holding your blue saber out in front of you, dully hearing Ahsoka ignite her second one, "We have to get out of here. How's your comlink, mine is um..." you gestured towards your mangled arm. 

In the blue and green hues of the cave, Ahsoka fiddled with her comlink, white eyebrows knitting together, "I'm afraid I don't take after Anakin in his repairing capabilities just yet. I think I can receive calls, making them on the other hand..." her voice trailed off. 

You nodded briefly, puffing your chest up, "Great, so we've just got to wait until the other's find us and hope that there's nothing down here." 

You were painfully aware of how hopeless the words sounded, falling empty on the soft buzz of the three lightsabers. Obi-Wan wouldn't let you die down here, all on your own. But... perhaps if the Council got involved, pushed him to abandon searching, infiltrating his brain with their pathetic dogma... Shaking your head, you ground your teeth, an awful habit you had started to develop. It was vital to stay on point right now, to stay focused. Ahsoka's life, just as much as your own, depended on it. 

"But Master Y/L/N, why should we fear anything down here?" she flashed you a toothy grin, voice laden and dripping with Anakin's cocky arrogance, an evident attempt to lighten the mood, "You look strong enough to pull the ears off a Gundark!"

Before you could vocalise a comeback, a loud grumble echoed throughout the cavern. 

Ahsoka's smile fell, face froze in confusion and fear, "Maybe that's Master Skywalker and Master Kenobi?" she offered meekly, but a distant yet approaching _tha-dump-skkr, tha-dump-skkr_ immediately undermined her argument. 

"I fear, young one, that you've just jinxed us." 

Instinctively, you perched yourself in front of Ahsoka, lightsaber raised in a defensive stance in your one free hand. The sound of talons scratching off of the cold, stone floor vibrated through the air, and you heard the snarls and yips of the Gundark as it lopped powerfully towards the pair of you. Behind you, Ahsoka held one saber pointing out towards the sound, fear yet determination to survive etching its way onto her face as her other arm angled itself behind her, clutching her sabers in an Ataru-Shien reverse grip that still amazed you.

"What do we do Master?" her voice was steady, encouraging you to be brave. 

Now you could start to see the red outline of the beast as it boomed towards you, its muscles bulging with each lunge. As it got closer, a pungent stench of flesh and death rolled over you, almost making you gag as it let out a ferocious snarl that made the ache in your head split. 

Licking your lips, you thought rapidly. Your chances of survival were... low but Ahsoka's..., "I can't fight much in this state, I'll be the diversion. You just run, do you hear me?"

"Y/N I can't do that! Obi-Wan would kill me -"

At the mention of his name, you felt your chest contract, trying to manifest his image in your mind as the brute bounded closer, "Listen Ahsoka, I'd be more worried about how this Gundark is going to crush you to death. Do you understand?"

A beat passed. 

"I do."

And then the looming, snarling creature was before you. Dark red tufts of hair protruding from the skin around its neck and head, cascading down and gathering around its neck like a coarse scarf. It let out a deep bellow, spittle and drool leaping from its mouth as it pounded its two larger front legs into the ground, shaking its head. The too-large teeth that adorned it's lower jaw glinted in the meek light of your lightsabers, and you began to see your death play out before you, wondering if the monster would clasp you between its large front paw, punctuate you with its talons and squeeze until every bone in your body had popped, or whether it would be mercifully and just yank your head off with its powerfully jaws. 

Ahsoka let out a gasp as she stared up at the beast, and you reached out towards her through the Force, sending waves of reassurance and pride and determination, hoping to hold her steady, to keep her certain in her path. 

"Are you ready?" your voice was barely above a whisper, almost inaudible when compared to the heavy panting and yelping of the Gundark. 

"Yes Master."

_Good._ Shutting your eyes, you felt the Force become palpable around you, watching as it stroked itself against every inch of your body, ebbing, throbbing, yearning to melt into you and become one. You let it. It gushed through every vein, every artery, every tiny blood vessel, powering you with just enough energy to keep the beast distracted. Just enough time to give Ahsoka a fighting chance of evading it and being found by the others. 

With a roar, you leapt towards the Gundark, lightsaber behind your head, anticipating to pierce the thick, leathery skin of the beast and drink upon its blood. It met you head on with a growl of its own, pounding towards your advance, the impact of its movements slinking up its pronounced muscles. It pawed one huge hand to your left, and the Force guided you to dip low and spin right, hissing in pain as you landed on your injured arms elbow. Meekly, you slugged your arm above you, lightsaber screeching but only barely singeing the skin of the Gundark. 

An annoyed snarl ripped its way from the beasts lips as its left smaller limb flicked you back as if you weighed nothing. The hit sent you sprawling backwards, tumbling across the ground and rolling to a stop, each spin punctuated with an outcry of pain as your wounded arm was slammed repeatedly into the ground, lightsaber skittering across the floor. Without giving you a minute to recover, the Gundark dived clumsily towards you, now towering above you. 

"Now Ahsoka! _RUN!"_ you shouted, trying to reach out and graze your fingertips along your saber. 

The Togruta looked at you with guilty eyes and for a brief moment, you feared that she would leap to your defense. But then her shoulders slumped, rose again and her back straightened, burdened with the remorse of accepting your sacrifice. Ahsoka's beautifully bright orbs met yours, tears like pearls gathering in the corner of her eyes as she nodded, accepting the duty you gave her. You mirrored the movement and watched as she sprinted down through the cave. 

_Smart girl._

Relief flooded through you and you felt your connection to the Force begin to fail, the barrier starting to rise again. Your fingertips were scrapping the edge of your lightsaber now, almost there, but then a large, rough hand secured itself around your waist and yanked you from the ground with such velocity it felt as if you had been whip lashed. The grip was suffocating, so tight it felt as if your bones were starting to bend inwards, creaking with the pressure. Everything hurt now, and painful wails spilled freely from your lips. 

The monster raised you to its eye level, yellow irises pulsating with a ravenous urge that struck fear to your very core as it swung to bring you towards its sharp, jagged jaws. Instead, you braced your legs and delivered a powerful kick to its right eye, making it reel back in pain with a screech, its larger right hand moving to sooth its injury as it slammed you in its left to the ground. Air was plummeted out of your lungs and a horrific crack echoed through the cave as your ribs shattered on impact, making you scream in pain. 

It was all starting to become too much, darkness throbbing on your peripheral vision, your body fighting against consciousness as it accepted your fate. Blood bubbled thickly in your mouth, so viscous it oozed slowly past your lips as you wheezed, trying to get air back into your lungs but it only felt like you were flooded them with your own warm gore. The Gundark's grip on you tightened again, the high-pitched _pop_ of your bones shattering dancing around in the cave. 

As it raised you to its mouth again, one blurry image came to your mind. Obi-Wan. Sat across from you. His copper hair trimmed back, his beard kept neat, blue eyes dancing playfully as he clutched a cup of steaming tea in one hand and a book in the other. His warm, earthy chuckle spilling from his beautiful lips as one of the numerous young Padawan's asked him another question about the text he was reading them. You couldn't ask for a better last thought. 

You were now level with the Gundark's eyes, its warm putrid breath blanketing your face.

Then with a scream, green protruded from between its piercing orbs, the lightsaber humming viciously with life mere centimetres from your face. The Gundark staggered, as if its body was not aware that its brain had been scorched and blackened from within, as if it were just a droid with a malfunctioning cog. Ahsoka roared again, embedding her second saber through it's neck. 

You plummeted to the ground as the hand that clutched you went limp, clattering off the floor that robbed you of your breath again, your nose crunching on impact. 

The young Togruta ripped her lightsabers from the Gundark's flesh, and jumped from its collapsing figure, spinning in the air before landing in front of you, knees bent.

"Master! Master Y/L/N," she was holding you now, but she was fading in and out of existence, one moment she was at your side, the next she had you cradled between her legs. 

A blue shadow painted the walls of the cave, and was that Anakin's voice? 

"Is she okay? Anakin!" Obi-Wan's familiar voice crackled across the hologram.

"Obi-Wan I'm not sure you need to see this," Anakin offered, gesturing to Cody and Rex to hold the panicked man back, "Ahsoka, we've located your position, we're on our way."

"Obi-," you barely managed, voice nothing more than a croak.

"Y/N! Y/N my dear I'm here," he replied, ripping himself free of the clone's grip, stumbling towards your flickering image. Anakin was right, he didn't need to see your crumpled, blood soaked and broken body, "Oh my dear," he whispered, panic saturating every word. 

"I -," you gasped, but the darkness was swirling powerfully now, blood gathering in a deep pool in your mouth, "I-," you gurgled. 

"Stay with me. We're almost there, stay with me!"

These were the last words you heard before falling from the realm of consciousness. 

...

...

An annoying beeping noise drew you from your sleep. 

Overwhelming brightness burned your eyes, making you clam them shut fast. Slowly, you blinked them open again, adjusting to the white hospital room that seemed to glare back at you. That annoying beeping noise was the machine that was monitoring your heartbeat, which appeared to be irritatingly regular. Gingerly, you tilted your head to the right and a soft smile spread across your lips. 

Obi-Wan was propped up on a sofa, head resting on his hands. Beside him was young Ahsoka, mouth open, a thin line of drool pouring down her right side, pooling on the dark cotton of Anakin's left shoulder, where her head was propped. Anakin, like his Padawan, was absent from consciousness, left arm gripping the back of the sofa, fingertips just grazing the material of Obi-Wan's robes, his legs were crossed and head hung back, long locks falling behind him. 

Maker knows what trouble they caused for them all to be allowed in your room. 

Tentatively, you reached out with your right hand, suddenly aware of your left which was wrapped in suffocating gauze, the smell of bacta-spray reaching your nostrils. Your fingers lay softly on Obi-Wan's hands and he jolted, startled by your touch. 

Azure eyes snapped up to meet yours and were suddenly overcome with a flurry of emotions and tears. The man choked back a sob as he pressed kiss after kiss to your hand, each graze of his lips and scratch of his beard filling you with warmth and adoration. His movements stirred Ahsoka, and she yawned, eyes blinking open and laying upon you. Obi-Wan dropped your hand as Ahsoka's gaze grew from soft to wide and she jolted up, startling Anakin who woke with a shout. 

"Artoo who stole my biscuit!?" he demanded sleepy. 

A laugh exploded from your throat, but it was croaky and hurt. 

Sleep faded from Anakin's eyes as he adjusted to being awake, a blush spreading across his face as he recalled his outburst. 

"Welcome back my dear," Obi-Wan's soothing voice called out. 

And you realised as long as you had these three, you'd always have a home. 


	6. Episode Six - Warmth ****

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is just a fluffy, NSFW chapter that features some more discussions about the space fam. 
> 
> It's three mini episodes that occur during a rare weekend away on Naboo - courtesy of Padme allowing you to use one of her private buildings with no questions asked. 
> 
> Idk - just wanted some more softness before I really go ahead and dive off the deep end. 
> 
> The NSFW is vv detailed and long and idk I may have gone off on a tangent but can you blame a girl?
> 
> It is yet again quite long. 
> 
> I hope it comes across well x
> 
> And again - I hope ye all stay safe.

**Naboo**

_One - Fields_

"Obi- _Wan!_ " you hissed urgently, eyes wide as you watched the man stretch his fingers out towards the feline, "Stop, you're going to lose a hand."

Instead of listening, the man fired you a roguish grin and crept even closer towards the Tusk-Cat. It was crouched before you two, its head and two large front paws poking out between the tall spears of golden, crisp grass that drifted with the wind. The two horns that jutted out from its chin, earning it its name, glistened in the honey-dew hue of the Naboo sun, emerald green eyes latched on Obi-Wan with a certain glisten that made your heart stammer. 

And yet, he continued to creep closer towards the animal, without an ounce of fear, as if he couldn't see the long claws that adorned its scaly feet, the sharpened point at the end of it's flickering and dancing tail, or the kriffing giant tusks that could impale him any minute. His calloused hands were held up, palms in the air in a gesture of peace as he stopped before the cat. A breath caught itself in your throat as you watched him reach out and graze one hand against the creatures furry forehead.

You had anticipated it to growl, snarl or try to render Obi-Wan's whole arm free from his shoulder, but instead the cat let its eyelids ooze shut, purring contently. 

"That's a good girl, huh," he mumbled, both hands on the cat now, fingers kneading the sandy fur behind its ears,"You're not so scary, are you?"

You stared at him incredulously, "How do you always manage to do that?"

"Do what, my dear?"

"Charm every beast we meet."

"I don't know, I guess I'm just _endearing_ ," he smirked, resting his cheek against the soft fur of the cat, feeling the vibrations that echoed through its body with each purr, "Why don't you ask yourself how I charmed you?"

Narrowing your eyes, you picked up and threw one of the chocolate covered strawberries at him, which bounced pathetically off his left cheek, only fueling his laughter, "This is why I said _beasts_ and not women."

"Oh my dear," his voice was laden with cockiness as he arched one eyebrow up, lifting your discarded strawberry to his plump lips, "We both know that's not true," and took a bite out of the fruit, dark pink juice and chocolate staining his lips and dyeing his mustache. 

"You're digging yourself a hole, Kenobi," you sneered, crossing your arms against your chest. 

'I'm aware," he smiled, reaching out with his free hand to pinch the soft, thin material of the your dress's sleeve, tugging on it softly, "Come here."

Pouting, you shook your head, "No, just because you have no regard for your limbs doesn't mean I -"

Before the rest of your words had even formed on your tongue and pushed their way out of your mouth, the sandy-haired man yanked you towards him. You tumbled towards the two, falling with little dignity. Your head bouncing off his firm chest with a gentle _thump_ and you were sprawled between his legs, arms on either side of the man. The billowy skirts of your yellow frock blooming around him like a sun-kissed cloud, his warm fingers burning through the delicate material on your lower back. With each deep, heart-warming chuckle that flowed through his body, you felt yourself vibrate and jerk with the movement of his chest.

Puffing, you leaned up and blew loose strands of hair out of your face. Obi-Wan stared down at you with such a sweltering intensity that you feared you'd spontaneously combust, feeling your heart jerk and stammer like a Fathier trapped behind the starting gate waiting in uneasy anticipation for the race to begin. It was as if your being was coming to the conclusion that just a look from the handsome man was enough to end you. He dipped one large hand into your hair, pushing the wispy waves behind your ear before allowing it to rest against your cheek. 

It was be the understatement of the year to say that Obi-Wan simply looked good. He looked ravishing though you weren't exactly sure how he made his effortless outfit of just a cream tunic and and dark mahogany trousers look like something a Prince of Naboo would wear. Dark tufts of hair teased you from where he had left the top buttons the tunic open, and he had bunched the sleeves up around his forearms.

The sky behind him was crystal blue, lacking any interruptions from wispy clouds, almost matching his eyes, which from this angle looked like little orbs of the azure horizon above. It had always been his eyes that caught you off guard, and the penetrating gaze they could inflict. They constantly seemed to swell with emotions and wisdom that made him seem far older than he was, as if he could out compete Yoda in a battle of the wits. Warm, gloriously golden tunnels of sun beams exploded from around and off his head, making it appear as if he were touched by an ethereal power. There was something about seeing him dressed as a civilian, pressed back against a large feline in the middle of a rich field that made heat pool in your lower stomach, he looked so relaxed, nonchalant. He was paradoxical, enigmatic, somehow fusing his ruggedly handsome face and appearance with an air of regality and elegance that set him far above any other man in the whole galaxy.

_Maker._

"Come now," he murmured, "Don't be scared."

"I'm not scared," you bit back, but your tone was all wrong, too high pitched and too rushed. 

Obi-Wan cocked his head, copper threads of his hair spilling across his face as he peered down at you, "What is it, little one? Why are you so frightened?"

You said nothing. 

His hand slipped from your face as he settled himself, and therefore you, more comfortably against the large cat who only mewled in response. But the sound was enough to make your heart surge in fear, feeling it beat savagely against the boney encasement of your rib cage. 

"Surely by now you should know you can't hide much from me," he said gently, full, rough hands on your forearms, starting to pull you up so you could sit on his lap, "Are you scared of cats?" he teased. 

Your legs were on either side of his hips now, his hands moving under the petals of your dress, rough fingertips massaging your thighs as your palms found themselves lying flat against his midriff. You forced yourself to concentrate on staring at his face, instead of being glued to the Tusk-Cat and watching every twinge of its muscles, every rise and fall of its chest, waiting for it to turn savage and maul you to a bloody plump. 

Just like the Gundark. 

"Ah," you heard his anagnorisis, and darted your eyes away from his face in shame, "No, don't look away, my dear. It's okay, it only makes sense, I'm sorry I didn't realise earlier," he paused, a mischievous yet understanding grin spilling across his lips, " If its any consolidation, after Anakin fell into that Gundark nest and I had to go save him -"

You scoffed at this and Obi-Wan's grin grew, his eyebrows shooting up his face, "What?"

"I'm pretty sure Anakin would argue that it was _you_ who fell into the nest," and you jabbed his chest with a finger. 

A laugh shook him, "I suppose he would, but Anakin's not here, so you'll just have to trust my word."

You rolled your eyes. 

"Anyway, as I was saying, after Anakin put our lives in danger yet again, and I rushed to save the day yet again might I add, he couldn't sleep for months after. Even small creatures like frogs scared him. You should have seen his reaction to Yoda when we got back to Coruscant," he chortled gently, causing you to bounce in time with his laugh, "What I'm trying to say my love, is -," he slipped one hand back up to cup your cheek as the often drifted ever so slightly higher up your thigh, offering you a soft smile, "You have reason to be scared. But it will pass in time." 

Ever the Negotiator. 

You mirrored his gesture, "Thank you."

"But, let me help you in the meantime," he offered, turning his head back to the sleeping feline. She was purring loudly now, a deep rumble pouring out from her chest. It was such a distinct sound, so intense, that it almost appeared to be corporeal, as if it worked on the same plane of existence as the Force. You believed that if you shut your eyes and concentrated you could see it swell and slump like waves throughout the air, watch it drift around you and Obi-Wan, slipping into your ear canals.

You nodded. 

The smile that erupted across Obi-Wan's lips, stretching to his ears almost made your fear melt away. 

Disentangling yourself from him, you found yourself kneeling before the cat, feeling the familiar burn of that Krayt dragon tug on the back of your mind. But, Obi-Wan's gentle touch forced it back, his palm cupping the back of your hand as he guided it towards the feline. You were glad he had a hold of you otherwise you weren't certain that you could reach your objective without trembling like a leaf barely clinging onto its tree. 

Then your fingers were engulfed by the soft strands of the Tusk-Cat's fur, and you could feel its purring pulse through its body. It was such a profound experience, to be able to feel a creature's sheer happiness vibrate throughout its existence. The cat raised its giant head to look towards you, beryl tinted irises inflected with sparks of aureus hues and yet, despite its countless forms of evolutionary weapons ingrained into her body, the feline only gazed upon you with tenderness, with the urge to protect. 

Obi-Wan's hands were also buried into the cat's fur, stroking and scratching her gently, he reached out to the feline through the Force, offering her words of gratitude, _Thank you, look at how you're making her smile._ You were too marveled with this experience to catch the way Obi-Wan looked at you, how something more than love surged behind his eyes, how an air of nervousness trickled through his exterior, making him gulp. 

_Maker, give me your strength later_ , he pleaded softly. 

_Two - Fire_

A fire crackled in the hearth, the wood feeding it hissing and popping as the flames tinted the whole room in apricot and coral shadows, their flickering making it appear as if walls and furniture were throbbing. You felt slightly abashed, out of place, as you walked out of the refresher in the _"little something"_ that Aalaya had helped you pick out. When this much needed get away was confirmed, you knew you had wanted to try and put a little bit more effort into your appearance, not that you felt like you had to because Obi-Wan had praised your body even when it was caked in mud and gore, but because it wasn't often that you had the chance to. You wanted to leave him feeling stunned.

The _"little something"_ was indeed very little, and it left nothing to the imagination, which one could argue was its whole purpose. It was a pale shade of pink, and was cut deep on the chest, showing off the swell of your breasts and trailed down their valley, only becoming one with the rest of the material again when it reached your waist. The strap was a single loop that was wound around your neck; there was no material on the back, leaving your supple skin fully exposed. Consisting of soft, delicate lace that was ingrained with an intricate pattern and gentle specks of champagne glitter, the main bodysuit component of the teddy clung to your figure like a second skin and rose high on your hips, baring the marred skin of your legs. But, the bit that won you over the most, the part that made you feel as if you were some Senator, was the almost transparent, glittering material that was embroidered into the teddy at the waist, flowing down and around the top of the back of your thighs like a shadowy, sparkling cape. 

Your skin was tinged slightly pink from the warmth of your bath, and your hair was still slightly damp but rolled freely down your back. Obi-Wan was lying on the sofa that was parallel to the roaring flames, but faced the refresher. At some point in your absence, he had discarded his tunic and he had his back pressed against one of the forearms of the furniture, legs sprawled out in front of him so that his heels were propped up on top of the other. A cup of steaming tea rested on the table beside him, an old worn-down book clasped gently in his hands. _Typical._

The balcony doors adjacent to such a glorious scene were pushed open, inviting in the oppressive night-sky and the chirping of the Naboo insects. Yet, he still heard you tiptoe out of the refresher, and looked up at you, the warm shadows of the fire painting half his body, but weren't dark enough to disguise the violent blush that burst from his chest and spread to his cheeks. 

"Maker Y/N -" his voice was no more than a husk, _something_ dangerous flickering behind his eyes. 

"I'm guessing you like it then?"

"Like it?" he laughed, pushing himself up to rest on his elbows, discarding his book dis-interestingly on the table as he drank you in, "Gods I love it, but..."

You sauntered over, making sure to add a sway to your movements in order to accentuate the softness of your hips, "But?" you breathed. 

"I think I'd love it even more on the floor."

This made you laugh, confusion flickering across Obi-Wan's face, "Who are you? A young Padawan trying to worm his way into his first pair of pants?"

"Shut up," Obi-Wan playfully growled, eyes never leaving the vast expanse of your exposed flesh as you brushed his legs off the end of the sofa, sitting on your knees facing him. 

"You're going to have to try harder than that, _General_ ," you huffed, acting disinterested. 

"Oh really?" he murmured and then something less carnal settled on his features, relief washed over his desire for you and he blushed more vividly, "I c-can do that."

His sudden change in demeanor startled you, which only became amplified as he bounced off the sofa and rushed to his cloak hung up by the door. After a few seconds of disemboweling the garment, he pulled his prize out, a small brown box clutched in his fist. You titled your head, confusion stitching itself in every one of your features. Staggering over towards you, his steps almost seemed clumsy, shy. 

"I got a present for you," he whispered, resuming his previous place across from you.

Obi-Wan pressed the box into your palms, it was cool to the touch and heavier than you would have guessed. You looked up at him, he was staring intently down at the gift, his bottom lip caught tightly between his teeth as you slowly cracked it open. 

"I can't ever promise to marry you," he breathed, watching as your face lit up in waves of joy, love, overwhelming happiness, "Because I can't ever give you what a husband should - a family, I can't give you a domestic life but - I wanted to give you something, I wanted you to be able to carry a piece of me wherever you go, something to symbolise my sincere devotion to you."

His words brushed gently against your soul, engulfing your Force signature in a soothing embrace as you fought against your trembling fingers to pick up the delicate ring before you. It's amber stone twinkled back at you, capturing and reflecting the soft glow from the fire like a prism, sparkling hues of yellow, pink and white dancing across yours and Obi-Wan's skin as you twisted the ring before you. It felt impossible to tear your eyes away from it, to not focus on the physical manifestation of Obi-Wan's adoration. 

His voice was no more than a husk, "The council granted me to visit my family a few times on Stewjon during my youth. The stone is from my homeplanet. Although I wasn't raised there, it still always felt like home and I could never feel like that on Corsucant until... until I had you," he reached out, plucking the jewelry from your hold and cupping your left hand, gently pushing the ring onto your finger. 

It fit perfectly. 

Words abated you. Every time you tried to pluck a thought from your mind and bring it to fruition on your lips, it appeared to be whisked away by some unseen force. So you did the only thing you could think of to show Obi-Wan that you reciprocated his feelings. With a trembling hand, you buried your fingers into his hair, feeling him press against your touch as you leaned towards him, your whole body yearning to feel his. The kiss was passionate, messy, a clash of teeth and tongues. A gesture of desperation, to be closer to one another, to be one with one another. His calloused fingers roamed down your body, gripping your waist and pulling you onto his lap and you ground down gently, drawing a deep groan from the man beneath you that vibrated throughout your body, making you clench. 

"I'm guessing you like it then?" he paralleled your question from earlier, eyes now hooded with a burning desire that made you squirm against him, trying anything to relieve the building pressure within you. 

Your lips were on his neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses and nips to his skin, reviling in his salty taste and spicy scent, "I love it," you whispered, slowly moving your ministrations down to his chest, easing yourself from his lap as you crouched in front of his knees. Running your hands up his toned, muscular thighs you thought back to the numerous times you had been sprawled naked over them, a whimpering, sopping mess on top of them, bucking against them trying to obtain some resemblance of a climax whilst Obi-Wan sat back, acting innocent as he denied you his touch, other times warning you that if you weren't quite he would stop everything. 

"I didn't know my legs were such a turn-on for your little one," he purred, thumb brushing against your lower lip. You took it in your mouth, down to the knuckle and spun your tongue around the tip, gushing at the groan that slipped past Obi-Wan's lips. You pulled back, making sure to pronounce it with a lewd _popping_ noise. 

"Any part of you is a turn-on," you gasped, fingers now stroking their way up to the waistband of his trousers, tugging on them, "I want this off," you said gently. 

Obi-Wan grinned smugly, rising to his feet. He moved agonisingly slow, and you watched as he stood above you and started to un-loop his belt and placed it softly back on the sofa behind him. Then he tucked his fingers into the waistband of the mahogany material and pushed them down his legs, taking his undergarments with them, revealing his honey tinted skin for your eyes to ravage. 

"What now, my dear?" 

You locked eyes with him, "Sit back down, _general_." 

The use of the title made his eyes darken and his already hardened cock twitch, and for a moment you feared you had lost control in this situation, but then with a shaky breath, Obi-Wan sank back down onto the sofa, his legs spread. You smirked, feeling a flag of pride that you had somehow managed to obtain some sense of authority in a scenario where the man before you often took control. Usually it was you spread bare, left vulnerable with only your arousal to cloth you, being brought to a whimpering, mewling mess by Obi-Wan. But now it was your turn. 

You sat in between his legs and reached out tentatively, gripping his firm, silky shaft. Obi-Wan hissed as you pressed your warm, moist tongue to his frenulum, hips bucking up sharply at your teasing touch. You could tell he was desperate, that he was fighting against the urge to grab you, flip you over and push brutally into you right then and there by the way his hands clutched at his thigh, how his eyes were fused shut as you trialed your tongue up and down him again, only barely pumping the top of him. 

"Y/N," he whined, eyes yanking open as he looked down at you. _Maker_ , his thoughts screamed, _Look at you, it was like you were made to take my cock like this._ His projections made warmth pool within you as you reached out with the Force to join your consciousnesses. He compiled, and you saw yourself from his perspective. Delicate fingers wrapped around his shaft, glistening tongue lapping up and down his cock as you pumped him softly, drawing soft pants from his lips but not giving him enough pressure to even begin to feel close. 

His force signature was pearl pink, soft and malleable as it yearned to melt into yours. You could feel its, _his_ , desperation throb in the Living Force surrounding you, its aching to become one with your own, to enter that familiar safe place within your mind and settle there with an aura of oppressive, sweltering heat that sometimes was enough to tip you over the edge and plummet you off the cliff into the sea of ecstasy. 

With a groan of your own, you hollowed your cheeks and took him into your mouth, dropping your mental barriers and letting your mind fuse with his own. Obi-Wan choked back a sob, hips bucking and forcing himself deep into your throat, bringing burning tears to your eyes as his hands shot out to tangle themselves in your hair. 

_"Stars,_ little one," he rasped, head lolling back over the sofa, Adam's apple bobbing as his chest staggered with gasping breaths. 

You felt your arousal pool and your clit throb as you felt his own in your mouth, in the back of your throat and ooze and drip through your mind. One of your palms were sprawled just under his bellybutton, pushing his down, the other was clenching the end of his cock and following the movements of your mouth as you took him in and out. He moved against your tongue, pushed against your throat, your saliva rolled down his length and every time you pulled off of him you made sure to make your lips smack or pop, adding an extra air of lewdness to your ministrations. 

His large fingers were gathered in your hair, holding most of it back from your face, but also added a reassuring pressure to the back of your head. Occasionally he tugged, often when a hiss or grunt flowed past his beautiful lips and you echoed it. 

Then he let out a guttural snarl and pulled rather aggressively, and you let him slip out of your mouth as you gasped, your head being yanked backwards to meet his eyes. The turbulent sea that bore down on you let you down you were done for and you trembled in anticipation, feeling how wet the material around your crotch had grown. 

Obi-Wan crouched down, catching your lips in a bruising kiss, his presence in your mind now metamorphosing from pearl to a pulsating, burning red that made you whimper, knees clenching together. His rough hands moved from your hair to your cheeks, thumbs brushing your skin as he guided you to your feet, rising himself. When you were stood fully up he reached down to grab the back of your thighs and you compiled, allowing him to pull you flush against his body, wrapping your legs against his waist. His chest hair and the lace of your teddy applying a sweet friction to your nipple that caused you to arch into him, feeling like putty in his arms. 

His erection brushed against your core and you whimpered together. Obi-Wan began to walk, but first bashed into the table and you were pretty sure you heard the cup of tea he had abandoned clatter to the ground. Before you could voice a protest, he brought his free hand back to your hair, tugging so that his mouth had access to your pulse point and he began his new attack that burned any memory of the cup from your mind. A surprised gasp fell from your lips as you felt the cool wall pressed up against the bare skin of your back, conflicting with the overwhelming heat coming from Obi-Wan's bare body and the heavy weight in your mind. 

"Obi," you gasped, not sure where you managed to find the strength to string a coherent sequence of words together, "The bedroom is right there!"

"Too far," he grumbled, head in the crook of your neck as he used one hand to grip your wrists up above your head, the other holding you in place as he ground against you, "Such beautiful noises you make, my dear," he purred and you felt that all familiar pressure of the Force pinning your wrists in place, "I wonder how many you can make."

As usually his words made you feel feral. During the last two years of your relationship it had become evident as to why Obi-Wan was known as the Negotiator, and that it wasn't just a title he adorned in war councils or on a battlefield. Violent irises found yours before he ducked his head, brushing the material of your teddy off your left breast and taking the erect nub in between his mouth. A gasp wrung its way from your mouth and your yearned to snake your fingers into his hair, to pull him closer to you as if you could make him melt into your flesh and sooth the aching that his ministrations were causing. Obi-Wan nudged away the material on the right breast, tweaking the nub between his fingers before kneading the flesh. 

A cry escaped your lips. You needed more. You were desperate now, your body a trembling mess but locked in place either by the Force or by Obi-Wan's hard body. He seemed adamant to avoid touching you where you need him most, teasing you by keeping his erection pressed up against your throbbing core. 

"Obi," you whined, "Please, my dear, _please_."

He pulled back, eyes steel as he looked down at you, "What do you want my dear, use your words," he gripped your chin, forcing you to keep eye contact with him. 

And just when you needed them most, your words failed you and all you could seem to produce was a noise that was a cross between a grunt and a whine. 

"Oh my dear you need to do better than that," his voice was laden with authority that made your thighs clench around his waist, bucking against him, "Come now, we've already established that you can use that dirty little mouth of yours," he leaned in close, mouth against your ear, his voice sending shivers down your spine, "Tell me what you want, I only want to make you _come_."

Your breaths were heaves now, chest rising and falling in mechanical, jittering movements, "I - I want you to make me come."

"How?"

You wanted to scream, to wipe that smug little smile off his face, his questions were driving you crazy, especially because he was in your mind, he could see what you wanted. 

"I know, little one," he chuckled, "But I want to hear you say it."

Blushing furiously, you choked, "With your mouth."

Then that carnal look, that predator glare that made your veins turn to ice and your body stiffen, molded its way across his face again as he dipped down between your legs. He ghosted his fingers against you, irritatingly soft that drew a strangled cry from your lips. But then his touch was gone and he hummed in annoyance. 

"How do I get this blasted thing off?" 

You had to suppress a giggle, "I thought you said you loved it?" 

He rose up, noticing the strap that was looped around your neck and lifted it off of you, "I think you'll recall I said I would love it more on the floor." 

"I suppose you did," you stammered, watching as he peeled the article of clothing off of you. 

He knelt down before you again, flattening his warm palms against your inner thighs and parting them. Then, using his thumbs he parted you and glanced back up to met your gaze, licking his lips as if he hadn't eaten in a year. 

"Look at you," his breath was warm across your cunt, "So pretty and pink," and you felt that heavy pressure of the Force binding your legs to the wall, holding them in place, "And so wet for me, aren't you little one, just from sucking my cock."

His words were making your head swim and when he flattened his tongue against you, you swore that the night sky had ripped its way through through the ceiling and bore its way into your mind. He drew a desperate, pleading whine out of your lips when he slid over your clit and you whimpered in frustration at your inability to clench your legs around him. 

"Obi-Wan -" you gasped, the cry welling up from somewhere deep inside of you, laden and dripping with unbearable, aching desire and desperation. He groaned at that, the vibrations only making you mewl louder, and he splayed his palms across your backside, tilting your hips up so he could get closer to you, to apply more desirous pressure with his tongue to your clit. His name, pants, incoherent stammers poured from your lips as he engulfed you with his mouth, worshiping you gently and studiously, trailing his tongue from your clit to your entrance. 

His ministrations were urgent, rapid, driving you quickly to your release. He dipped his tongue inside of you, ripping a coarse scream from your throat, as he lapped up your arousal and drew it up to that overly sensitive bundle of nerves which was only growing more and more tender with each of his movements. Your muscles couldn't move, bound in place by his will of the Force, but you could see how your chest was rising and falling in short, raspy breaths, that familiar coil starting to twist in your lower stomach. And then without warning, he buried two fingers into you until they were knuckle deep and a searing white hot flash ripped through your mind, pulling a croaky scream from within. 

_Are you going to come?_ his voice boomed in your mind. 

You gulped, struggling to catch your breath as you glanced down at him. His mouth and beard glistened with your arousal, two of his fingers plunged knuckle deep into you, your wetness gathering in a glistening pool around the joints. Unable to vocalise anything other than pathetic mewls and whimpers you nodded aggressively. Obi-Wan smirked and beckoned his fingers, as if he were directing you to your release and your eyes clammed shut, feeling completely at his mercy as he leaned back in, capturing you in his mouth again. Anything you could have said was lost then, swept away in the tide of your orgasm. It was like a supernova explosion had ripped its way through you, ruthlessly trembling its way through every muscle in your body, but the only ones that could contract were those in your cunt and when they clenched around Obi-Wan's digits you swore you could die. You were certain you could die. You knew you'd feel his beard scratching against your thighs for days to come, the bruising pressure on your hips already starting to bloom. 

The pleasure rippled through you, bubbling its way up through your throat and pouring out in a cry of sheer ecstasy, mind focusing on the the only image and words you could picture, " _Obi-Wan!_ "

And he was at your lips almost immediately, crashing his against your own and you tasted yourself on his tongue, moaning into his mouth as his slide his tongue around yours. Obi-Wan released his hold on your wrists and legs and you almost collapsed, feeling spent, but he held you up in his warm, strong arms, cupping you against his body as he carried you into the bedroom. You could do or say little, asides from press soft kisses to the tanned skin of his shoulder, fighting to get air back into your lungs. 

The bed bounced beneath you and Obi-Wan left little time to waste, crawling over you and hitching your knees over his shoulders yet again. One of your hands pressed gently into the crook of his neck, the other clung to his tensed bicep as he pushed into you and bottomed out. You enveloped him with a sob, still overly sensitive from your earth shattering orgasm as your nails dug into his skin. 

The ring he gifted to you glittered with each of his relentless thrusts and caught his eye, bringing a savage, possessive grin to his face, "You're mine," he snarled, burying his face into the crook of your neck as he rolled his hips harder into you, "It was like you were made to take me like this. Like you were made to be mine," he gasped. 

"Yes," you stammered, eyes rolling themselves into the back of your head as the sparkling night sky penetrated your eyesight again. 

Pulling his face back from your neck he pressed a brief kiss to your lips, his right hand resting above your head as he peered down at you, "Say it."

But that familiar tightness coiled in your lower stomach and you could feel that blinding hot heat start to pour itself through your body, yet you somehow still managed to stammer, "Y-Yes, I'm yours!"

The way he looked at you, how his Force signature swelled and engulfed your own, coaxing you with soft pleads, _Come for me little one, let me feel you come_ , was enough to allow the second shock-explosion roll through you. Your vision shot white, your back arching you up into Obi-Wan's chest as your body stiffened, fingers gripping his bicep and the crook of his neck so tightly that your nails broke the skin. His hips stuttered as you clenched around him, pulling him into his own release. His name was a cry on your lips, yours a pant on his breath as he spilled into you, throbbing.

Moments passed before he pulled out of you, cheeks blazing red. You felt like putty, like every bone in your body had melted as he pulled you close, pressing soft kisses to the top of your head. 

_T_ _hree - Afterglow_

You sat perched at the table, a hot cup of caf clenched between your palms as you watched Obi-Wan stroll about the kitchen, dominating it as well as he did a battlefield. The rock on your finger glittered, catching your attention as your recalled his gifting of it to you. 

"Obi-Wan?" you mused gently. 

His back was towards you as he scrapped a pan against the hob, he turned his head to face you briefly, acknowledging your call, "Yes?"

You watched him nervously, fingers dancing with one another against the warm mug held in your hands, "Did you - did you really mean what you said... about not being able to start a family?" 

Obi-Wan stiffed and he placed the pan back on the stove, turning the heat down as low as possible to turn and face you. Evident confusion knitted his eyebrows together, and you knew your answer almost immediately. To him, there was no life outside of the Jedi and the Order. To him the Jedi weren't as corrupt at they were to you, only troubled, only tittering on the Darkside occasionally because it was necessary in order to protect the Republic. 

"Well... yes. It's not that I don't want to," he pondered, now taking a sip from his cup of tea, "But I'm not sure being a General equates to being a good father and... and it's one thing disguising a relationship, but a _child -_ we'd both be thrown out of the Order."

You nodded solemnly. 

"Besides," he chuckled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes, "We technically already have two children."

You furrowed your eyebrows at him, "We do?"

"Anakin and Ahsoka," then he laughed full heartedly, "Many more if you start including the clones. Cody. Waxer. Boil. Rex and Fives..." his voice droned off. 

You couldn't help but laugh at that, he wasn't exactly wrong, but it didn't fulfill the new ache you felt growing within. Dissatisfaction and disappointment in the Jedi Council had started to steel your heart against the Code, against the whole way of life, and this weekend away, seeing Obi-Wan in his full domestic glory, had almost settled your heart on obtaining the dream of settling down somewhere far away from the conflict, from everyone and everything, with Obi-Wan and start your own life. 

"Besides, I can only handle on average five headaches a day," he continued, and you zoned back in, offering him a halfhearted smile, "And Anakin already accounts for ten of them."


	7. Episode Seven - Irksome ****

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Clone War has had you and Obi-Wan separated for months now. 
> 
> When you find out that there has been a Separatist attack on an Outer Rim planet, you urge the Jedi council to rush to their aid. However, the system has not sworn loyalty to the Republic, instead wishing to remain neutral to the conflict which has engulfed the Galaxy, the council deems it a battle they cannot fight in, otherwise they would risk further conflict with the Separatists. 
> 
> Resources and fighters are spread thin. 
> 
> Your lack of confidence in the council leads you to disregard their desires and rush to the aid of the suffering people, sparking a new battle with the droid army. 
> 
> In your act of recklessness heroism, the council send you the aid of The Hero With No Fear and the Negotiator, alongside with Padawan Tano and their clone troopers. 
> 
> After the winds of the battle have settled, Obi-Wan shares some stern words with you...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> This is yet again a NSFW chapter - however it is like porn with a plot. 
> 
> I hope this panders further into the narrative I'm trying to portray. 
> 
> It also features some good old space family narration and interaction. 
> 
> It will probably be quite long because I've started to write at a reasonable hour and that tends to be when I go off on a tangent the most. 
> 
> It explores angst with the Jedi council and their ways - can you sense a theme?
> 
> I do have two questions - I have a playlist I listen to whenever I write about Obi-Wan and I was wonder if you would be interested in knowing about the songs? I can add them to the end of the fic. Second more important one is: WOULD YOU BE INTERESTED IF I WROTE A PADAWAN OBI-WAN FIC? I have an abundance of ideas for it but I just don't know if there will be an audience for it.
> 
> Anyway - I hope you are actually enjoying this? I am so sorry if not XD but I do believe I'm trying the hardest I can at the moment. 
> 
> As always, thank you for the support and hope yer staying safe x

Dusk loomed on the horizon as the winds of the battle quelled, irritating specks of soot and filth starting to settle on the deceased and discarded weaponry and armor that littered the ground in an unpredictable pattern. Cody held a pair of binocular's to his eyes, peering out into the solidifying darkness until he discovered the two Jedi he had been searching for. It wasn't too difficult to find you and Obi-Wan, as you had your lightsaber ignited, severing the darkness, as you spun savagely towards the man behind you, the Captain could see how your features were animated with the venom of anger as you jabbed your electrifying blade at Obi-Wan, it jutting in the air centimetres from the Generals chest. 

"I found them sir," Cody chirped, turning to look back at Anakin Skywalker and Ahsoka Tano behind him, both perched upon crates with their cloaks tucked in close around them, offering minimal protection from the closing coolness of the night, "It looks like General Y/L/N isn't too happy."

Anakin let out a bark of laughter that echoed loudly, "I didn't expect she would be."

"Sir, if you don't mind me asking," Rex's composed voice rippled through the air as he lifted his helmet from his face, bleached hair standing out against the dreary and dull base beyond him, "What got Y/N so worked up?"

The young Jedi Knight smiled, narrowing his eyes as he peered out before him, watching as yours and Obi-Wan's figures got gradually closer to their position, "Well..." he began, trying to find a polite way of surmising the Jedi Council's failings, but knew it was fruitless.

"She didn't want to pander politicians," Ahsoka offered. 

Anakin hummed in agreement as he glanced down at his young Padawan, who had her arms wrapped around her knees, head propped upon them. Sometimes, albeit _rare_ , Obi-Wan's influence in Ahsoka's life shone brighter than Anakin's, allowing her to vocalise thoughts which would have been considered far more intellectually charged than one would have given the young Togruta credit for.

"Ahsoka's right," Anakin nodded, his overgrown curls falling softly into his eye, he brushed them back with an annoyed flick of his wrist, "The council didn't want to help these people at fear of muddying the politics."

Rex furrowed his eyebrows as he stood beside his captain, "But surely that's inhumane?"

"Exactly why General Y/L/N told them where to stick it!" Cody retorted, voice laced with unmistakable pride, "There isn't a General I could be prouder to serve under."

"Certainly seems to be Obi-Wan's preferred choice too," Rex grinned. 

"Captain Rex!" Anakin laughed, "Careful there are teenagers here!" he nudged Ahsoka.

"Hey! He's the actual _child_ ," Ahsoka quipped, face lighting up in a cheek splitting grin.

A round of chuckles poured around the group as they then turned to focus their attention back on you and Obi-Wan. Each of them watched in amazement as the usual buoyancy in your tread when you were with the taller man had morphed into an earth shattering stomp; the way in which you usually glided through the air by his side crumpled into a slicing pace as you stalked before him; how your loud, little laughs that often bore the weight of your soul and bruising, reckless love for him were fractured into spasmodic catches of breathes between shouts, broken into syllables by the thundering of your heart. 

The germs of love prevented you from spinning around and sending him sprawling backwards with a surge of the Force as you trudged your way towards the base, glaring hotly at the four before you. 

"Er, should we help General Kenobi?" Rex rushed, feeling his blood chill at the stuttering dark clouds of anger that had drifted across your face. 

"Nah he'll be fine," Cody stretched. 

"A-Are you sure? Y/N looks like she could kill him."

"As you said Rex," Anakin chortled, "Obi-Wan's type of Generals are those like Y/N, he's put up with hers, Quinlan's and Siri's temperments -"

"Don't forget _yourself_ , Anakin," Ahsoka interjected, 

"Well, yes, and _me_ , for years. They'll just go in there," he gestured towards the meeting room with his chin, "Yell at each other for a bit and well... probably do some other stuff he hasn't done with me and Quinlan and everything will be fine again."

Ahsoka blanched, "Urgh! Teenager present, remember!"

The three men laughed, "Sorry Ahsoka," her master offered with a wolfish smile. 

Just as the Knight predicted, you stomped your way past the four without a second glance and rushed into the meeting room, making sure to slam the door shut behind you with a push of the Force, rattling the whole metal wall. The sinking sun tainted the alloy walls with a molten-metallic glow, which glared off the bleached surface as Obi-Wan followed just a few steps after you. Unlike you, the rugged and singed man paused at the quartet. 

"Don't you all have something more productive to be doing?" he snarled, eyebrows knitting themselves together. 

A cheeky grin rolled across Anakin's face as he held his hands up defensively, "Hey, just because your having a lover's spat doesn't mean you can come over here and take it out on us."

Obi-Wan said nothing, narrowing his eyes so that only small slits of blue could be spotted before stalking off and following you into the room. The four all looked at one another, each realising how extensive and deep rooted the latter man's anger was at his lack of retort towards Anakin's gib.

And such an assessment was a weighted one. 

Obi-Wan slammed the door shut with just as much force as you did when he stepped into the room, blue orbs piercing into your back as you gulped lungfuls of air into your chest, desperately hoping that your anger would subside. It was a futile desire, because when he opened his mouth to discredit your actions yet again, another snarl ripped its way aggressively from your throat. 

"I could fill two whole Star Destroyers with the amount of stupidity you just displayed!" he growled. 

Scoffing, you turned to face him. This was the first time you had seen Obi-Wan in months as he had been stuck out in the Outer Rim with Anakin, fighting grueling battle after grueling battle, trying to push back the Separatists and regain some amount of Republic dominance in the area. It should have been a happy reunion, you should have felt as if you could run into his open arms and cling onto him for dear life, but instead, he was reprimanding you for doing the right thing. 

"Only two?" you seethed, "From yours and the council's reaction I'd have thought it would have been at least five."

"This isn't a time for jokes Y/N -"

"Then you might as well abolish the council!" you snapped, crossing your arms, hip jutting out to the right side as you met his glare with one of your own. Your snip caused shadows to flicker across his face and then he sighed, fingers gripping the bridge of his nose as he dipped his head, now staring intently at the floor. 

"What do you want from me?" he croaked, voice a whisper. 

"Oh, I don't know? How about the Obi-Wan who would have laid down his life for innocents without needing the approval by a corrupted Senate?" you snarled, feeling your Force signature thunder and roll, jagged black spikes erupting from deep within, "When did you become a dog for politicians? These were _innocent_ people Obi! The council would have condemned them to death!"

Your mouth clammed shut, fingertips shaking with trembling tribulation. If they had just put aside their selfish desire to maintain power you could have been here earlier, you could have arrived with squads of troops and made swift work of the swarm of droids. Instead, because the council refused to give you approval, you had had to turn up by yourself. You had to watch so many innocent people crumple under the weight of death, how their bodies stuttered when rounds of blaster shots ripped through them and how that milky gloss of fatality seeped through their irises, stealing any breath of life. Just thinking about it brought a wave of anger crushing into your heart. You had always been a person whose emotions lay very near your surface, it was a trait you had barely modified throughout the years, so it was almost impossible to mask your current deep disdain for the council. 

You stared down at your hands, despite your relentless, tear-blurred scrubbing the night before, your palms were still tinged crimson, the weight of the dying girl still pressing down on them, "I - I held a young girl Obi... A _child_! I could have saved her!" your voice was hoarse, eyes stinging, "If the council had just remembered who the Jedi really are! But instead they're pretending to be amoral, rotting away just like the Republic!"

He looked up at you then, eyes wide with concern. They were misty blue, a sublimation of everything that made him _him_ , it was not necessary to push any further into his physical appearance, into learning the way he moved, how he pronounced certain words, everything that Obi-Wan was lived within his eyes. Eyes which had no beginning or ending, no surface or horizon, nothing but height and depth and breadth; they were looked _into_ rather than looked _at_ , inviting spectators to dive into those blue seas and drown. Captivating, ensnaring and _wounded -_ orbs which seemed to swell with their own vitality.

Obi-Wan staggered towards you, but stopped a hairs breadth away. In reality it was an almost non-existent gap between you two, but it felt as if a gorge had ripped its way between you and you were each standing on opposing sides, the earth beneath your feet beginning to crumble. 

He whispered, fingers flickering, trying to breach that fracture, "Y/N -"

Acidic tears burned your eyes profusely now and you brushed them away clumsily with the back of your palms, "No Kenobi," you spat, your formality taking him back, "This was the first time I've seen you in _months_ and I thought you'd have my back and you didn't!"

"We're in the middle of a galactic war Y/N," his voice was turning to steel, hands now falling back down to his side as he set his jaw in a grit, "There are bigger things at stake right now than _us_."

His voice seemed to be a hiss, his words inflicting an invisible wound upon that hitched your breath, seesawing your inhalations and exhalations. The ring that clothed your finger, which had become a symbol of hope that he would come home to you, suddenly felt heavy, restrictive. You wanted to yank it off, release your digit from its strangling hold, but you felt yourself writhe under the oppressive nature of devotion, and moved your other hand again from it.

"I see." 

"Y/N," he almost whined, voice softening sounding almost like a plea, "Don't - I... I didn't mean it like that -" he stammered, stepping back from you and plonking himself in the old, creaky chair across from you, "I have missed you so much, and your actions they - they could have cost you your _life._ I had to fight with the council to get here to you, to help you! I -" he broke off, elbows planting themselves on his spread knees. 

You drank him in for the first time since he arrived earlier that day. How the difference in hue between the blanched cream of his robed armor and his ruddy arms and bearded face contrasted just like the white of an egg and its golden, succulent yoke. The war was starting to take a physical toll on him, you could see that, by how speckles of grey streaked through the sides of his hair, how talon like impressions curved the soft skin around his eyes. He slouched back, chancing to meet your gaze as he worked the thumb of his right hand between his teeth, thighs inched apart. The battles in the Outer Rim had allowed the sun to lick his skin, deepening it to a dark honey-toned shade of apricot and drew out and multiplied the splattering of freckles that glittered across his cheeks. When he had left all those months ago, pressing a brief kiss to the top of your head before running off to join Anakin on the ship, his beard had been trimmed back, combed neatly into a state of perfection, but the weeks out in the middle of nowhere with hardly any time to catch a breath had left it grow out.

It made him look worn down and tired.

He had packed on some muscle weight, you noted, seeing for the first time how his shoulders had swelled, how his arms appeared to curl more than they did before and the firmness of his muscular thighs appeared to fill out the previously empty space of his trousers. 

Obi-Wan rubbed a hand across his face, muffling his sigh, "You're right."

It would be the only time gratification didn't seep through your blood when someone told you you were right. You didn't hold your head in pride that you had come to understand that the only form of family or community you had ever had was slowly rotting away from the inside out. The Jedi order had been the only life you'd ever known, and even in your deep despise of it, you felt lost whenever you thought of walking away. It was only through the Jedi that you could sit down, shut your eyes and reach out, fingers grazing upon the tangible, pulsating lives of others around you. Without the Order, you wouldn't have met Obi-Wan.

A large hand gripped his left knee, "Maker you're right but I don't know what to do with that. I can't walk away Y/N, I can't leave Anakin, I can't let men like Dooku or monsters like Grevious ravage the Galaxy. Remember what you told me back on Geonosis... I can't sit back timidly and watch everything go to hell."

"I know." 

"Then... then why does everything feel so hard?"

You shut your eyes, inhaling sharply. Everything appeared to be catching up with you now, the last two days of relentless battle bogging down your muscles and making them feel like lead, the emotional toll of the conflict snaring your mind and the fact that Obi-Wan was right there in front of you, and yet you felt as if you tried brush your fingers against him that they'd sink into him and you'd fall through, revealing him to be a hologram made your heart quiver. 

"Because we're at war," you cleared your throat, "Everything is hard. It brings out the worst in the best of us."

He hummed in agreement, "I know loving you isn't hard." 

His words felt bittersweet. They coated you in a fuzzy feeling, a delicate blanket of comfort and love which reinforced the allegiance that Obi-Wan bore towards you, how it absorbed his whole soul and existence. Every breath he took he took for you, every trembling gush of his heart and thundering pour of his blood was for you and every time he shut his eyes before he slept, he thought of nothing but you. Of your soft breaths at night, of your inability to sit still for more than five minutes, of your soft pants and pleading cries. 

A life of a warrior was a life of absurdity, an existence in which one learns that there is no reason or meaning to the way in which everything plays out. Obi-Wan and yourself had thought you'd each learned this lesson when Qui-Jon was ripped away, when Adi Gaillia was taken from existence, when your role within the world had been reduced to nothing more but the last person, a stranger, that a young girl would see as the light in her eyes slowly blinked away. But then you had accepted one another. Each finding some form of meaning in the ulcerated and damaged other. Some silver of hope, some faint, dimly lit dream of a life together, a life outside of explosions and cuts and bruises. 

Sweet pain flowed through you as you trickled over to him in pieces, not sure when your legs found themselves before him, when your fingers laced themselves around his neck as you pressed your forehead against his, choking on his spicy, minty scent. 

"I was so scared I was going to lose you," he murmured, rough fingers ghosting over your face as if he were reading your features. 

"I'm sorry but I had to, I couldn't leave them to die."

He smiled, but it was melancholic, weighted with the recognition that you would lay down your life for the greater good, that though he owned some part of your affection, you were truly and ultimately devoted to the Force and the desire to bring about the greater good, "I know." 

Warm fingers then trailed up your back to splay across your shoulders and a muffled moan seeped past your lips, suddenly making you aware of how tense and tight your upper back felt. 

"Do they hurt?" he murmured, the pages of his memory turning, recalling the numerous nights where a deep ache in between your shoulder blades kept you awake. 

You nodded.

"Turn around, love," whispering, he dipped his large, warm palms to your hips and twisted you so that you could sit on his lap, his large legs resting under yours acting as a firm cushion. You melted into his touch, feeling all the frustrations that had festered under your skin during the last few days kneaded away by his gentle yet knowledgeable embrace, those experienced, calloused fingertips working magic. 

Obi-Wan circled his thumbs deeply into the place just between your shoulder blades, drawing a rewarding moan from your throat as your head dipped back to rest on the crook of his neck, his warm breath tickling your own. 

"I missed you," you whispered, barely able to hear your own voice over the surging of your blood. 

He stretched his legs, drawing yours further apart with this movement as he pressed a soft yet scratchy kiss to the sensitive skin on your neck, "Me too. I think being alone with Anakin, Rex and Ahsoka for the last few months has aged me indefinitely." 

This made you laugh lightly, "I can imagine. It would explain the new grey additions to your hair."

"Ah I was hoping you hadn't noticed them, I fear my darling that I am getting old."

"Too young," you moaned, each drag of his fingertips making you twitch as it brewed a warmth within, "That mop on the top of your head needs a trimming too."

"I'll leave you to lop off my locks in a while, my dear," he murmured, one of his hands slipping from your back to lay flat against your lower abdomen, pushing you flush against his chest, "No complaints about the beard?"

Turning your head to obtain a strained glance at him you noted that the divine cut of his lips was tilted upwards in a quirky grin, deep eyes soaring with that _something_ that made you feel like a young Padawan on their first mission again. You reached behind you softly, threading your fingertips in his slightly overgrown beard. 

"Hmm, I like the beard."

"But," his voice lowered dangerously, other hand now teasing its way down to rest on your hip, giving it a firm squeeze, "It hides so much of my handsome face."

"Thank the Maker," you teased, breaths now becoming labored as you felt him fumble with the hem of your trousers.

"I'll remember that," he growled, finding his grip and easing them down, urging you to raise your hips so he could shuffle them off from around your behind, leaving them gathered up around your knees, hitched just like your breath. His fingertips now worked themselves on the soft skin of your upper thighs, alternating between a feathers touch and a harsh, almost bruising pressure. The oscillations in his ministrations left you feeling ragged, simultaneously working out all of the notches and pains that had gathered in your muscles, but caused warmth to swell in your lower stomach. 

"Obi -," you gasped as one hand ghosted over you, hips bucking up. 

"Oh so it's Obi again now is it?," he purred, other hand grazing up your body to turn your face to him, just in reach of his slightly chapped lips, "You've dropped all sense of formality I see."

"B-Bit hard when you have my trousers pushed down around me."

This earned you a chuckle before he pressed his lips softly to yours, kissing you tenderly as if he were frightened that if he pushed too hard, gave you too much, you'd break. It was one of those kisses that you'd read about in holobooks as a youth, the kind that made you feel shattered yet whole, as if your heart were weeping but in joy. It was always his ghost-like touches that left you feeling pulverized, the lightest of grazes which weighted the most upon your soul. 

They were the ones you missed the most when he was gone. 

But he was here now. The coarse material of his robes rubbing almost irritably against your exposed skin, his beard scratching against the most sensitive skin of your neck, his calloused fingers hooking themselves under your underwear. His spicy yet musky scent engulfed you and you felt as if you could suffocate on it, choking back a moan as he eased your undergarments down in the same manner as your trousers.

In this position, you were completely at his mercy, your whole being penetrated with a new and profound sense of vulnerability that was foreign to someone like you, a trained Jedi Knight, one of the most feared warriors in the galaxy. Yet, you wouldn't have it any other way. In your state of fragility, you felt all your fears, all your anxieties, the painful gorge that had spread between you and Obi-Wan, drift up from the tip of your toes to the very top of your head and float away like a lone leaf caught in the stream of the wind. 

All that was on your mind now was how his fingers tapped playfully just above your folds, how the hum that rumbled within his chest echoed through your back. 

"Can I help you relax?" he murmured, warm breath spilling across your shoulders. 

"Please," you begged, voice ragged with desperation. 

You couldn't see it, but you tell that he was grinning.

Obi-Wan gave in, dipping his hands between your legs and spreading you with two fingers, his other hand following to roll desirous pressure across that sensitive nub. It was nothing, but it was enough to catch your breath, for a whisper of a moan to stutter its way out of your chest and for you to loll your head back and rest it against his firm, muscular shoulder. He started to work the bundle of nerves with ardent speed, drawing a whimper from your throat as you felt your arousal pool around you, jolts of pleasure becoming an insistent iteration throughout your body. 

When he lowered his fingers, now making his thumb focus on your nub, and soaked them in your excitement, dragging the two digits up and down your slit before pushing them into you, it drew a groan laced with ecstatic desperation from somewhere deep within. It echoed it with one of his own that made your toes curl in desire. 

"That's my girl," he murmured huskily, right against your ear which made you shudder, "Maker how I missed this. How you feel, how you _sound_."

Then he was pumping his fingers into you, curling them when he was knuckle deep that made you see stars, bucking your hips up off his own as he beckoned you towards your release. The room was becoming filled to the brim with the obscene noises of him thrusting his fingers into you and your staggered moans and stuttered gasps. Obi-Wan rolled his free hand from your folds to lay it against your throat, finding it as anchor to hold you as you stammered your way closer to the edge of release. 

This was so unlike the first time he touched you all those years ago. There were no tender grazes, no hesitation or curious touches trying to discover where to touch you to elicit choked sobs from your lips. No, instead you spread wide by his open legs and his fingers stoked and held you in ways that he knew for sure would have you a screaming, sopping mess. He worked you feverishly, chest rising and falling in anticipation, as if he were chasing his own release as well as your own. 

When he pulled his fingers out of you, making you whimper at the lost of contact, and dipped his thumb into you instead, making it slick with your excitement before rolling it over the sensitive nub, the calloused skin catching you just in the right way, you arched your back, a loud scream pouring from your lips. Swiftly, you felt yourself envelope his two fingers again and moaned as he curled the digits inside of you with a new fervor, new excitement. 

The coil that had been twisting within your lower stomach began to grow taunt, your legs trembling as you struggled to find purchase on Obi-Wan's body, clutching onto his biceps as that hot wire burned through you, breathes seesawing, permeated with instability. 

When he moaned your name, plucking it from the air and converted it into something divine through the way he pronounced it, laden with desire, appreciation, domination, you felt that coil shatter. Stars exploded across your clenched eyelids, incoherent phrases slipping past your lips as you clenched down hard around him, shaking through the aftershocks. Obi-Wan held you in place with that warm, pressure around your neck, murmuring sweet words of encouragement against your ear. 

As you struggled to force air back into your lungs, you felt the man shift beneath you as he released himself from the painful prison of his trousers, his red hot erection burning against the bare skin of your behind. His rough fingertips hitched your legs apart as he angled himself beneath you and eased you onto him in one swift movement. 

"Oh stars," you whimpered, finally feeling complete after months apart. 

You started to pull yourself up and down his shaft, rejoicing in the way he seemed to catch against you in all the right ways from his position. 

His breath was raspy as he thrust up into you, hands gripping onto your hips so tight as if you were preventing him from being whisked away by some force, " _Ah,_ Maker my little one," he grabbed you so hard, stopping you from moving up and down him, "If you don't slow down I - it's been awhile."

Whining, you ground against him, "Obi-Wan I don't care. I want you to come, please my dear, _please don't stop_."

His eyes became hooded, darkening with desire at your plea and he wrapped a strong arm around your lower stomach and rose to his feet, applying a little pressure beneath your shoulder blades so that you dipped down, hands grabbing the control station before you. Obi-Wan was stood behind you and pushed your legs ever so slighty more apart before gripping your hips again, pulling you flush against him. A moan rippled between the two of you in unison as he bottomed out, from this position pushing far deeper into you than before. 

When he pulled out fully and snapped his hips back into yours rather aggressively, you staggered, breath stuttering as you moaned loudly. He threw caution to the wind now, plunging in and out of you at an almost relentless pace that had your legs trembling, arousal dripping down them as you struggled to remain standing, to keep your eyes open. Obi-Wan moved one rough hand from your hips to clasp just around your shoulder as he thrust into you, your name pouring from his lips as if it were a religious chant.

It was just you two. The whole galaxy shrinking and becoming something small and insignificant. Anakin may have become his partner in battle, an opposing side of the same legendary and lethal weapon, but you had become the other half of Obi-Wan's morality, of his soul. When he said something was white, you questioned it to be black; when the council argued something was justified, you'd disembowel their proclamation, highlight to him the dark spots that shadowed their plans, the more sinister outcome. When he was told his only position in life was to live, breathe and die for the Republic, for ancient dogmas, you offered him a world of beauty, of adoration, of domestic bliss. 

Everything slipped away. This was no longer a need to be close to one another, to feel one another in such an intimate way, to rekindle the fire that had seemed to die down into barely glowing embers. It was an act of pure carnal catharsis. 

It was just you and Obi-Wan Kenobi and all the damage that the war had done to you both. 

His hips started to stutter now, slamming into you at a more inconsistent pace as your legs trembled, the burning coil exploded for the second time that night. Scorching red, hot waves of pleasure shattered throughout your body, pulling Obi-Wan into his own vocal release. 

You felt him pepper gentle kisses up and down your back as he pulled out of you, rearranging his robes as you did the same. Unstable on your feet, you clenched the control desk tightly underneath you, so hard that your knuckles threatened to rip through your skin. Pink stained his cheeks as he pushed his slightly damp locks back from his face, flashing you an almost timid, schoolboy smirk. 

Always a man of duality. 

"I'm sorry I - that was a bit -"

You cut him off with a wave of your hand, finally starting to feel your heart rate return to normal, "Don't apologise, _that_ was very much needed."

"Glad I could be of service," he grinned, offering you his hand. 

You accepted it, looping yours through the crook of his elbow, "Now, come on, let me go fix that head of hair."

He took a few steps with you before pausing just before the door, turning to look down at you with those immeasurable eyes, "Y/N?"

"Yes?"

He cupped your right cheek with his free palm, "I know things are hard right now... I know you're conflicted and I might not share all of your opinions, but I want to help you. I want to be there for you because I know I will always support you, no matter what path you chose," his thumb brushed softly against your cheek, "I love you, young one," and pressed a warm, dry kiss to the top of your forehead. 

"I love you too, Obi," you whispered, rubbing your thumb against the ring that adorned your left hand. 

There was nothing you wanted more than to just stay in this room, to never leave it so that the pair of you would never have to step back onto a battlefield again. 


	8. Episode Eight - Crippling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rako Hardeen. 
> 
> It had become a name you despised with every once of your being. 
> 
> He had taken Obi-Wan. 
> 
> Now life just seemed to be a meaningless slop that you had to inch your way through. 
> 
> Here are some episodes detailing how you deal with the loss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there!
> 
> Before we begin, yes I am aware that this arc of the clone wars is in season 3 and I've already wrote about arcs post season five.... but how about we act like the first three seasons of the clone wars and throw chronology out of the window! (In all honesty when I began this fic I didn't have a plan and now I do so it's my fault - I'm lazy)
> 
> I want to apologise for the delay in writing - my mind has been all over the place recently, oscillating between intense hyperactivity and bone crushing sadness so trying to find a time to write and focus has been difficult. This means I also want to apologise for the standard of this chapter, it may be even worse than the usual. 
> 
> Hopefully, this will be a long way but I cannae promise.
> 
> I hope you're all doing well x
> 
> Thank you for the continual support (especially Abbie, Itohan and FabulousDarling - ye always put a big smile on my face)
> 
> Hope you enjoy this insert! 
> 
> Stay safe x

**Coruscant**

Something lurched within you. 

It tumbled d

o

w 

n the grey sides of the apartment cladded planet of Corsucant, snagging and spluttering on the sharp edges of the houses and off of the window ledges before smashing gracelessly into pointed, little pieces on the floor. With its plummet and subsequent destruction, you felt as if you couldn't breathe, as if your lungs had become iron and just wouldn't expand, refusing to inhale and exhale, rebelling against your brains screaming to _just kriffing breathe!_

The sound of the shot rumbling out of the sniper still rung loudly in your ears. You could almost picture it now. The barrel of the weapon, the gentle, subtle flick of the trigger; metal warming and glowing like molten lava; how the bullet would push its way up the snout against gravity and wrench through the air, swiveling toward its target with no understanding of who its victim was; what it was plucking from life as if were a farmer just harvesting ripe jogan fruit. 

Except, this bounty was not yet ripe.

With legs like lead, you staggered to the edge of the roof. Crumpled on the ground like a discarded piece of paper were not the remnants of your heart, although seeing him sprawled across the floor like that incinerated the delicate organ, but instead the mangled body of Obi-Wan Kenobi. 

Something, a bizarre, stitched together monstrosity of a laugh and a whimper pushed its way begrudgingly from your lips as you felt yourself give into the pressure of gravity, falling to your knees, your grief masking the pain that jolted up through your thighs. Ahsoka was clutching him now, and a darkly ironic thought snarled across your mind, about how it paralleled Obi-Wan's mournful clinging to Qui-Gon back on Naboo. You swore if you listened hard enough you could hear his clipped Coruscanti accent, making some ridiculous banter about the whole situation. 

A looming maroon shadow swiftly fell in beside you. His grief, his roaring anger almost seemed palpable. It was rolling off of him in turbulent waves that threatened to engulf you and wash you off the edge of the building. A part of you wished that Anakin would indeed fling you from your current perch, so that the image before you would stop plaguing your eyes, so that in some pathetic way you could still feel close to Obi-Wan. 

You realized now you were trembling. 

Ahsoka looked up at Anakin, fat and grotesque tears gathering in her eyes. She shook her head. 

A gut wrenching shudder ripped through you. 

...

The ground opened up, a glaring, cold black hole surrounded by the warm flickering lights of the lamps. The casket was being eased painfully slow down beneath the building, trickling out of sight and taking the one aspect of your life that gave you the urge to fight down with it. You kept waiting for yourself to lurch awake and find the man asleep beside you. But you didn't. You hadn't. Instead, you were sandwiched between Anakin and Ahsoka, feeling the penetrating gaze of the other Master's as you struggled to pretend that this didn't bother you, that any forbidden emotions had already been purged unto the Force. That this wasn't shattering your whole existence, that your body hadn't become so adjusted to the searing pain that had raced up and down your nerves that it now felt nothing. 

Numbness had oozed out of the tender internal wounds. It coated your anguish in a thick blanket of nothingness. 

The metal band that was secured around your left hand's fourth finger felt as if it trying to cut off circulation in the digit, the amber stone glared back at you with resentful glimmers. Life now felt like an ugly compromise, a choice between giving up and wasting away to join him or fighting to honour him. Existence felt like a timid surrender to forces and choices beyond your reach, a progressive struggle until death too crept up upon you. 

Ripping it from your finger and clenching it in your palm, the sharp imprint of the ring breaking your skin also ripped through that wall of nothingness, tearing it to shreds like a nexus and you gripped it tighter, feeling your skin bubble and burn as your body flooded the wound with fresh blood. 

A single, treacherous tear trickled down your cheek as if it were a glistening orb of dew plopping off a drooping leaf. It scorched a path down your face, drilling a crevice into your skin as you watched the body of the man you adored most get swallowed up by the floor. Even now your devotion to him burnt brighter and stronger than any star in the galaxy. Whereas they were mere concentrations of gas and pressure and dust, all forced together to produce a blinding light, your love for Obi-Wan was a choice, all natural and dazzling, something that transcended the laws of nature and science. It was what you found solace in. Most people looked to the stars above them when they needed to find a grip in this vast, ever changing universe, but you always found stability in the shared affection between you and Obi-Wan. 

Now that bond was in tatters, whimpering like a wounded beast. Every time you attempted to reach out to it, searing pain shot through you when you met the new fog of nothingness, rather than the warm Force signature that engulfed you before. 

You tore your gaze away, allowing it to fall on the man stood across from you. His face was dominated by that luminescent streak of yellow, framed by chunky braids. You hadn't expected him to be here, but of course he would be here. Himself and Obi-Wan had been almost inseparable as padawans, it was Obi-Wan who defended him to the council when they wanted to execute him, it was only Obi-Wan who could put up with his rather unorthodox approach to the Code. 

Quinlan reached out to you through the Force, pulsating waves of condolences and understanding washed over you. His grief over Ventress was still raw, still a weeping wound that inhibited his path to recovery. Anger, fear, loss, heartache, warm memories trickled into your mind, and when you dropped your barriers, they flooded through and you staggered. Ahsoka reached out, wrapping her delicate little fingers around yours to ground you as you rode through each crest of Quinlan's projections. 

It became evident that the pain would never subside. 

But that you would grow accustomed to it. 

People were now vacating the room, drifting out of sight like drafts of wind. Beside you Anakin burnt wildly, his emotions coating him in a thick, slimy large of dangerous anger that which threatened to consume him. He turned to look at you now, his eyesight demanding attention, and meekly you gave in, almost sinking beneath the weight of his piercing glare. 

"I'm going to kill him," he whispered, his voice was eerily stable, no inflections which revealed anything other than cool, burning anger. In this moment he resembled an icicle, often unassuming, perceived to be delicate but sharp and jagged enough to impale if given enough force, "Hardeen is going to pay for what he took."

Where Anakin gorged upon light, Ahsoka seemed to be splitting open with white beams, "Master..."

"I promise you Y/N, I will make him pay." 

You should have said something, anything. The boy, no _man_ it was still so hard not to see the small sandy haired boy instead of the brooding man. He was suffering just as much as you were, the bond you had lost must be aching tenfold within him. But you were terrified to open your mouth, to vocalise the dark thoughts. 

_You better._

_...._

You were caught in an emotional limbo, exhausted but too mentally tormented to sleep, yet too tired to be awake. That twilight zone of the senses where nothings real except the crushing, omnipresent misery and pain that racked through your mind and body night and day. His cloak was caught between your fingers, you clenched it as if it were your last lifeline to a better time. It was coarse and scratched against your cheek in an echoey reiteration of how Obi-Wan's beard used to graze your skin when he nuzzled into your neck. A shadow of what you craved.

If you focused hard enough you could almost still feel his warm presence. Like honey and glass, scent like spiced rum with a flare of stingy mint, intoxicating yet sickening. He was fragile and transparent, seemingly simple yet oozing complexity, and such depth entrenched his being. Obi-Wan always spoke with that warm confidence that only honesty could bestow. He was like a perversion of a geode, rather than having a dull exterior and beautiful interior, Obi-Wan was crafted from fibers that just emanated beauty, honesty and courtesy. It seeped out of him when he had sat in the council room, the only beacon of light in that ever darkening place despite the far-stretching windows which invited the sun's beaming rays. He was so unlike almost every other Jedi. They were almost always like some museum, cold and antique, never allowed to touch. Yet Obi-Wan and his lineage appeared to radiate energy and vitality. 

That's why the concept of him stone cold dead seemed like a lie. 

The reminder of his death racked through you, you had hoped indefinitely, but extensively that this was all a sick joke, but the punchline never arrived despite you constantly feeling as if someone had delivered a sucker to your gut, leaving you winded. 

Cody was sat across from you, head in his hands. His thoughts were so loud, they screamed to be heard. _How many more of my loved ones will I lose? Is this all we clones were made for? To suffer and then die?_ You must have whimpered, made some meager sound because the captain turned to look at you. The specter that gazed hollowly back at him looked like death warmed up, with matted hair and dark shadows weighing down its eyes. 

He grasped one of your hands, an attempted gesture of comfort but it was constricting, crushing the gasps of air from your depleted lungs. He could have been sitting on your chest for the level of oppressive discomfort you felt. You wanted to scream. Cody's hands were too small, too overwhelming wrong, calloused in all the wrong areas. Not Obi-Wan's. 

You heard him mutter, something about Anakin and Ahsoka and Hardeen and revenge and something more and something else. 

It sounded distinctly like a background buzz.

You knew you should have stopped Anakin, but you were just as clouded as he were. How could you persuade someone from not doing what you wanted them to do? You knew your words would just fall on deaf ears anyway, by the way that the man had set his jaw, how his eyes lost that devilish glint and settled on a stone cold blue. 

Water sloshed somewhere in the distance. 

A familiar scent, like burning wood and tangy orange drifted through the air. You'd forgotten that he had come by, when was that? Today? Yesterday? You didn't know, everything seemed to blur together recently. Quinlan Vos stood in the door frame of your refresher, interrupting the light which flopped out from the room behind him. He held himself with an air of harshness yet it was permeated with the urge to care. You could tell he was here to put an end to your self pitying. 

"Get up," he voice commanded. 

Part of you wanted to tell him where to go, but it appeared that most of your body and mind felt the need to be dictated by him and his philosophy and staggered to an upright position, before stumbling to your feet. It felt as if your body was being twisted and crushed, but you persevered until you were stood looking up at your old friend, his looming figure towering over you, a shadow which rippled with raw physical strength and held a powerful connection to the Force. 

" 'atta girl," he murmured, one hand now pressed in between your shoulder blades as he guided you softly into the refresher. 

Pearl tinted water shimmered before you, soft wisps of steam rising up and curling around the surface of the glinting pool. The warm air made your lungs feel elastic, finally allowing them to expand as you gulped in the fresh, saturated air. A pang rang through your body, this resembled how you helped Obi-Wan back on Naboo all those years ago, before you had allowed your fiery love for him to consume and engulf you. 

You shrugged your days-old clothes off, Quinlan turning his back to protect your modesty, and when they thumped to the floor, you realized just how dirty they had become; crumpled before you like a filthy sluggish blob of grief. It had taken you aback, how intense the pain had been, how aching it could be. Some days it felt like a quiet ebb, an undertone to your mood. On these days you could still crack a few jokes, lift the corners of your mouth up into a glimpse of a smile. But bereavement was always lurking in the shadows like a patient bounty hunter, an efficient, evolved predator which patiently stalked its unaware prey. 

Just like Rako Hardeen. 

Like a stone, you sliced through the water, melting into its warm embrace as Quinlan perched on the edge of the bathtub, his back to you as he stared at the wall. He had lined up a mixed matched selection of shampoo's and conditioners; honey, mint, tangerine, _sapir_ tea. This brought a ghost of a smile to your face, as you tried to imagine the crass man rifling through your cupboards and picking scents that he liked. 

Quinlan could be rough, sharp around the edges, but he had always had a soft side. Granted, it was caked in a seemingly impenetrable layer of sarcasm and rebellious banter, but when you managed to crack through those crusty, soulless top layers you were greeted with molten adoration and affection for anyone who he deemed worthy of his friendship. Betrayal still inked across his signature, his shock at how the council had turned on him like a ravenous loth-wolf despite it being them who pushed him off the edge, all except Obi-Wan. 

The loss of Obi-Wan, to Quinlan Vos, meant that the council had lost their last genuine Jedi master.

A sigh escaped your lips, and you imagined it to embody all of the tensions which had ached your bones recently, "You know I did this for Obi-Wan back on Naboo?"

At the mention of _his_ name you saw Quinlan's shoulders scrunch up. No one had had the nerve to whisper the word since the funeral, at the fear that by saying it, you would all consolidate the fact that he was truly gone. It had been a justified fear, it became clear to you, bearing resemblance to a sun plying its fingers into dark, stormy clouds and ripping them asunder. The clarity threatened to rip a choked sob from your throat.

"He may have mentioned it once or a _billion_ times," you could hear the tight smile that played upon his lips, "I don't know why it took you two so long to finally get together, it was so kriffing obvious that you had the hots for one another for years."

You laughed, but it was bittersweet, "It may have been unrequited love on my behalf for the most of it."

"No," he drew out, head falling backwards on his tensed shoulders to look at the ceiling, "Satine and Siri were distractions. It was always you. Genuinely!" it was like he could see the incredulous expression that had spread across your face. 

Rubbing the honey scented shampoo into a lather in your hands before massaging it into your now wet hair, you joked darkly, "We always used to mess around, joke about how it would be me next, you know? How every woman he'd ever liked wound up dead. The thought that it would be him just never... never passed my mind." Your voice became a croak. 

"Good ol'Kenobi, using humour to process everything and anything. He really never changed did he?" Quinlan chuckled darkly, the largest of his braids swinging back over his shoulder with their shaking, "Yeah, the universe handed that man an awful deck."

You hummed in agreement, feeling your throat clog as you dipped backwards to rinse your hair.

"I -" Quinlan began, mouth swiftly clamming shut as he struggled to process his racing thoughts, "I'm really glad he gave in though. To you. I've never seen him happier than during these last few years. I mean, when he wasn't consumed by the war effort but... Maker it was like having that crazy padawan Kenobi back sometimes. He started trying to drink me under the table again. Stopped worrying so much about Anakin it- it was nice."

This made you laugh as you squirted the sapir scented conditioner into the center of your left palm, "He really stopped giving a shit at the end. Anytime he saw Anakin glance at Padme, he'd turn in the other direction, say that it's none of his business." 

"Beats how he was towards the end with Qui-Jon, that man was so wound up that if you shoved coal up his ass a diamond would fall out a week later."

The pair of you shared a reminiscent laugh before you croaked, "Quinlan?"

"Yes?"

"He really was the best wasn't he?"

A deafening silence seeped in, the man let his shoulders drop, "Yes. The best of us all."

Combing the conditioner into your hair with your fingers, you wrapped your arms around your knees. Quinlan turned now, his eyes bister eyes locking with yours. You felt beyond vulnerable, naked in more than one way. There was something about the penetrating gaze from someone who completely understood what you were feeling. 

"It gets easier. I promise," he offered, glistening tears pool around his eyes, "Ventress - she - I... I still hurt, but I hurt less," he stammered. 

You nodded solemnly, wishing that he would change the subject. The idea that this raw ache would ever become anything less seemed incomprehensible to you and, to be quite frank, appeared as an insult to Obi-Wan. To just get over him would make you no better than the corrupt council, the beings who plod through this life with no consideration of others or emotional attachments. No better than a pathetic droid. No, your emotions made you feel alive, they were a testament to your undying devotion to Obi-Wan. You were certain that this pain would never yield its unwavering grip over you. 

Dunking under the water, you rinsed your hair yet again, before breaking the surface with a satisfying _splash._

"C'mon, get dried up. I've got a bottle of something borderline toxic which is illegal in _several_ star systems," he flashed you a devilish grin. 

.... 

Quinlan was right. 

With time the oppressive weight of grief became less. Sometimes it only diminished by the narrowest of amounts, other days its hold over you seemed to deplete dramatically. Quinlan had stayed, setting up in your unused padawan quarters. It was quite ironic really, that he was staying in the place of a leaner when he was currently your teacher, educating you on how to combat the burly beast of bereavement. 

And yet just when you felt you had found a firm grip on the tail of the brute, enough to hold it in place and trap it, that familiar blinding light shredded through your mind. Your grip slipped, the creature was free to wreck chaos. Or at at least it would have, had not Quinlan also stilled, hand clutching his chest indicating that he too felt the crushing clench around his heart. 

A knock rumbled on your door. 

Each step you took towards it felt as if you were wading through thick mud, like tiny hands were grasping the material of your robes and yanking you back, desperately trying to keep you away from opening the door. 

It whooshed open, jolting into place. 

There he was. Although it took you a moment to comprehend that it was him, as his chin and head were bare, strawberry blonde stubble erupting from his skin. You'd have laughed, believing that your mind was playing the cruelest of tricks, but you knew that your own brain wouldn't conquer such a bizarre and disturbing projection of Obi-Wan. Looking at him now, it was like you were breathing air for the first time, seeing the world in colour for the first time. 

Obi-Wan was alive.

Then everything seemed too much. Colours were too vibrant, glaring and gleaning in the bleaching light spilling from the sun. His scent: books, mint, rum was overbearing, almost causing you to wretch. The air which had rushed into your lungs now felt heavy, poisonous and you choked on it. It felt as if the ligaments tying your knees together had started to unwind, snapping and popping as they whipped away from their knots and tumbled uselessly to the floor, just like you. 

You collapsed to your knees in front of him, a trembling mess and he sank down before you, a plethora of emotions crashing across his face. Regret. Fear. Shame. Love. Worry. 

Before you could choke out a reply, a dark shadow spilled out of the room beyond you, moving faster than your eyes could process and inform your brain. 

"Kenobi!" Quinlan snarled, his tone delivering a sharp blow to Obi-Wan as he swiftly turned to look at his blur of a friend. 

He couldn't move fast enough. You heard the crack of Quinlan's knuckles as they slammed into Obi-Wan's cheek, sending him sprawling to the ground, a bruise already starting to bloom, dark and ugly, across his cheekbone. Quinlan had only ever stuck Obi-Wan once before, years ago when you were all padawan's, over some snide remark that the lighter hair-coloured man made. It dawned on you how everything seemed to come full circle, how the pathway of time seemed to be curved into a sphere. Repetition was inevitable. 

"What the fuck Kenobi?" Quinlan shouted, his whole body trembling, "What the fuck? You were dead! We buried you!"

"It was imperative that the whole world thought I was dead!" his voice was the only thing you wanted to hear, but also sent intense shivers down your spine with each inflection, "Yours and Anakin's reactions were what made it believable. The council assured me it was the only way."

"Of course it was the council," you mutter. 

"Y/N -" Obi-Wan began, but a glare from Quinlan silenced him. 

"I- I need some space Obi-Wan," you struggled, "This...this is something else. I - I'm so angry and hurt and grateful that you're alive but you - no the _kriffing council_ have put me through a lot these last few weeks. I... I don't know who you are."

You rose clumsily to your feet, staggering back into your room and shut the door with a _swoosh_ of finality. 


	9. Episode Nine - Apprentice **

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A time of brief peace and reconciliation for you and Obi-Wan. 
> 
> Which is about to end with a blast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> Again, another delayed chapter - life do be all sorts of crazy at the moment so I'm sorry!!!
> 
> Can I just say I did not expect that last chapter to get the engagement it got, so thank you all so much! Honestly! It gives me so much more motivation to write when I know that there are people who are engaging/enjoying what I'm putting out there. Hopefully this chapter yields similar results. I love and cherish you all!!!!
> 
> This is going to be long, fasten your seatbelts and get ready for the journey.
> 
> Again, I played around a wee bit with the timeline so we could have Quinlan being useful in the last chapter.
> 
> Briefly NSFW - kinda.
> 
> Coming close to the end now - please don't hate me. 
> 
> I'm sorry in advance x 
> 
> Also I recommend listening to there she goes by sixpence none the richer to add a sinister yet funny twist to the end 🤣
> 
> But again, thank ye all so much!
> 
> I hope you're all staying safe and sane! x

**Coruscant**

Part of the early afternoon had waned, though much still lingered, and what was left was crafted of the finest and rarest quality. The horizon was lazily sipping on the sun, the light pouring off of it had grown mellow, casting long, stretching shadows of the tall buildings of Coruscant across the floor, adorning it in monotone hues. Space vehicles flickered across the window, the humming of their engines as familiar as the pattering of rain against window panes.

Privacy here reigned supreme. 

It always had. 

Within these walls many secrets had been cast. Forbidden looks, touches and words had been whispered. Rules had been discarded like robes at the front door and lies and sinful behavior had been adopted like a second skin. It was a tradition that was being carried out right now. 

Silvery water lapped around your skin, Obi-Wan's chest hair prickling into your back as you sat in between his legs. Things had been rough between you two ever since the Hardeen situation. Reprogramming your brain into accepting the fact that Obi-Wan was alive, not decaying, all alone under the ground, was like trying to wipe your mind blank and rebuild your education. In the beginning it had felt impossible. Betrayal had oozed through your blood, poisoning you against the man because you just couldn't understand why he would put you through all that pain for nothing. 

And yet, with time, you had found yourself gathering up the broken pieces of your heart, and with trembling hands, start to piece it all back together. When it seemed like you about to lumber a piece into place, threatening to shatter all of your progress, Obi-Wan appeared and opened himself to you, trying to regain your trust, and added stability to your reconstruction. Ultimately, without him, you wouldn't have been able to move on. 

You had started to understand, to recognise why his mission required top secrecy, without it the Chancellor's life could have been put at risk. It was just one of the many differences between you and the Jedi Knight, it often felt like you were both caught at a junction, one path spiraling off into obeying the Council even if it jeopardized your personal life as it would conclude the conflict, the other suggesting that the Council were too corrupt and so caught up in the politics of war, that only through disregarding them could you bring an end to it all. How could you truly be outraged at Obi-Wan when he was only trying to protect the Republic? Only doing what he had be taught to do all his life - put his own desires aside for the betterment of the whole Galaxy. 

And so you were shattered, but stitched back together and finally feeling whole again. Any gaps that remained had been plugged by Obi-Wan's warm company. At first, the concept of loving him was terrifying yet electrifying, as you feared it was all still a dream, some cruel twist of your imagination that had manipulated you into believing that he was back. Occasionally you grasped him a little too tightly, fearing that if you didn't he would slip through your fingers like the finest of silks. But it was his honesty with you afterwards, his warm embrace, the yearn you always felt to be with him that persuaded you to cut the tether that secured you to the plains of stability and plummet back into the jagged spikes of love, similar to how gravity governed rain to plunge towards the earth.

When people talk about love they always present it as this feeling of pure bliss. That you recognise the _one_ at first glance, and that despite everything that you and this person may go through, it will always feel effortless, like a warmed knife slipping through butter. And although this assessment holds some ground, it is flawed in many ways, ignorant to the true state of affection. You never know when you meet that person, because love doesn't just spring itself upon you. It engulfs your being like a cocoon, coating you in a shiny chrysalis that makes everything and everyone in the world appear blurry, out of focus, dull, when you're not around that person. Your eyes almost always fell upon them, watching them carry out the most mundane of tasks as if they were doing something intricate. It is only when you realize that being around them made you feel like you were breathing sweet, glorious air for the first time that you could crack your way out of that precious shell. And then, _Maker_. 

Then everything seems so intense, that it is almost painful to merely glance at the world. Love is _not_ easy. Love is pain. Love is the most bittersweet pain you've ever experienced. Every atom of your being becomes utterly devoted to someone else, against your will, even when you want to hate them. It's a constant conflict between your mind and heart, in which there is never a victor, just a perpetual ache that vibrates through every bone. 

So no matter how much you wanted to despise Obi-Wan, you couldn't. 

Instead you were yet again captivated by his rustic simplicity and humorous eyes, feeling like you were going to implode as that rich adornment of a honey tinted beard tickled the skin where your shoulder and neck met. Every one of his touches made you feel loosely and feebly pieced together, as if he had some divine omnipotence over you. 

Tenderly, you nuzzled yourself further into his touch, resting your head on the crook of his shoulder as he held the slightly dampened book in front of you as he read aloud. Obi-Wan's love of knowledge rivaled his adoration for you, and it had a fertilising quality to it, encouraging you to grow in areas you'd have never even had thought about before. He says he inherited that from Qui-Gon. You agreed. 

Though his voice was rich and warm, a lullaby to your ears, it was saturated with a heavy tiredness. His current habit at this period was to carry his exhaustion to the furthest point and confess to it only when he lacked the energy for dissimulation. Trying to pinpoint where his weariness arose from was often difficult, and perhaps the easier question to propose would be to try and find what did not drain the man? Yet, you knew what tediously weighted on his mind. It was the broken continuity between the gentle wanderings of his soul and the ever increasing agitations of the world. Obi-Wan had still somehow managed to maintain his fixed determination to regard the world as a place of brightness, despite its current state of disarray and the plague of conflict which ravaged through it. To his it was still a place of irresistible opportunities, an overwhelmingly bright hole in the galaxy that is only experiencing a brief period of darkness. 

Sometimes you found his attachment to such hopes infuriating. A tad naive. 

But they were always what drew you to him. Where you often found suffocating negativity, Obi-Wan could pin-point sparks of positivity, as if he were navigating constellations in the vast darkness of the night sky. Perhaps that was why a world without him appeared so dreary. 

"Hey! You're not paying any attention," he murmured, applying a slight pressure to your hips as he clenched his legs to draw your attention. 

You greeted his outcry with a grin, "No I most certainly was!"

"What was the last word I said then?" he huffed.

"Then?"

Obi-Wan chuckled, "You're lucky I think you're cute."

Craning your neck to glare back at him, you teased, "Are you implying that no one finds me attractive, Kenobi?"

"Well..." he smirked. 

You rolled your eyes, feigning a desultory air as you twisted yourself so you were now sat facing him, water swooshing up the sides of the tub like the crests of waves, yet the force pushing them was not the moon's pull, but the pulsating connection between you and Obi-Wan. Hooking your legs on either side of his waist, you sat comfortably on his lap as if his body were carved to fit the curves and edges of yours. He automatically encircled you with his board arms, pulling you flush against him, book being tossed somewhere carelessly beyond you two, gathering with the previously forgotten robes and tunics. Bare, wet skin melting together. 

"I'll have you know I have a wide selection of men and women at my finger tips," you purred.

"I'm not sure I believe that."

You wrapped your arms lazily around his neck, tip of your tongue darting across you lips, "Hmm, I'm almost certain that when you were _gone_ I heard whispers that myself and Quinlan made a cute couple."

Obi-Wan tensed beneath you. You had to hold back a snicker. 

"Huh," you pondered, hyperbole permeating through your words, "And if you remember Quinlan and I had a very brief thing as younglings."

"I'll kill that womp rat," he snarled playfully, grip on your hips tightening. 

"You would really do that? Rob me of my true love?"

Your teasing had got to him, wormed its way enough into your skin that the copper haired man whipped one hand up to your hair and pulled you down to crash onto his lips. On contact you left out a puff of air through your nose, satisfied that your ministrations had paid off. You could feel him growing harder beneath you as you squirmed against his hips, letting out a desperate squeak as his free hand grasped your behind roughly, the other tangling itself in your loose, damp hair.

His kiss was rather forceful, tongue exploring the cave of your mouth as if it were the first time he had tasted you, the prickly hair of his mustache and beard rubbing harshly against the skin of your nose, your top lip and chin. You were certain that your skin was rubbed red raw and your mind scrambled to try and think up an excuse for later. 

But such thoughts were displaced abruptly when he pinched a nipple between his forefinger and thumb, earning a yearning gasp from your lips as you broke the kiss. Obi-Wan looked up at you with playful eyes, making you aware that you were about to be subjected to an afternoon of foreplay and teasing for your previous taunting. 

Or at least, you would have. 

Had his quarters not rumbled with the aftershocks of an explosion. 

You both froze, pulling away from one another as the building swayed. 

"That doesn't sound so good," he murmured. 

You bit back a frustrated moan, already starting to untangle yourself from him, "No it doesn't, but when ever is an explosion a good thing?" 

Starting to rise out of the bath, Obi-Wan gripped your chin between his thumb and fingers, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips as he rose, "We'll finish this later, I promise."

...

...

"This is ridiculous!" You gasped, staring at the circle of beings before you.

"Do you have a problem with our assessment?" Mace Windu's cool voice rang around the room, his eyesight requesting your attention. 

You glared back at him, "Of course I have a problem with your kriffing assessment! You're blaming one of our own for the bombing? And not just anyone but little 'Soka? Have you all got your heads so far up your own -"

" _Padawan Tano_ ," Mace almost hissed, lurching forward in his seat so that his pointed elbows punctuated toned thighs, "Has implicated herself numerous times across this investigation, or have you forgotten the footage of her killing a prisoner?"

Anger swarmed through you, it felt as if every atom of your being was vibrating with such intensity that you were no longer a stable, single object. Being here was exhausting, having this argument was incredulous, it was like you were slamming your head repeatedly against a wall. It felt as if you were being peeled apart by rage; epidermis yanked back; dermis ripped asunder; hypodermis blown apart and bones popping and screaming as your body crumpled under the oppressive weight of anger. 

You crossed your arms, "That's just one interpretation of the video, none of you even tried to listen to her! The minute that _kung_ Tarkin threw her under the speeder you sided with him, just like the little lap dogs that you are!"

"You will watch your tongue when you address the council, Master Y/L/N," Mace's voice was steely, "Or you _will_ face repercussions."

"Unlike Ahsoka, I'm not scared of you anymore," you snarled, jabbing your finger across the circle as a sublimation of your rage, but you kept your eyes focused on the man before you, noting how him seemed like loose threads barely clung together when compared to the well constructed Obi-Wan stood beside you, "I see through your lies and your failings. You will regret this."

Obi-Wan reached out, large palm curling around your shoulder. The intense burn that radiated from his touch made you flinch, "Masters," he began, voice laden with sycophantic flattery, "Please forgive Master Y/L/N, I'm sure she doesn't mean it, this is just a very confusing time for us all."

"I understand," Master Plo Koon's muffled voice replied. 

Mace appeared smug, sinking back into his seat, "You should be grateful, Y/N, to have befriended the notorious Negotiator to dig you out of your messes."

You could have jumped at him right then and there, but Obi-Wan's heavy palm held you in place, his voice ringing in your head, _patience my love, just pander them for a moment longer._ You cast a glance over at him, almost gasping at the brightness which hung above his head, throbbing against the darkening presence of the council room which appeared to be deepening. He was fresh and natural and quick to understand and yet appeared to be trapped like a lone daisy among strangling thorns. 

His individuality almost made you gag. 

It shouldn't be like this. They should all be like him. 

"Please excuse us Masters," he purred, bowing his head as he lead you out of the room. 

The minute the doors clicked shut behind you, you brushed off his touch, spinning away from him, "Thank you _Negotiator_ ," you spat. 

Obi-Wan staggered, evident confusion pushing him backwards, "Y/N I-"

"Obi-Wan! You didn't even defend Ahsoka in there! She's your grandpadawan!" you gasped, pinching your eyes shut, the brightness that enshrouded him becoming painful to look at, the ache in your chest expanding, robbing you of any depth in your lungs. 

"I believe in Ahsoka," he replied, stepping towards you now, "But I can't be of any assistance to her in there if I'm biting the other Master's heads off like a savage loth wolf. You and Anakin are so similar so sometimes, when will you learn that the Council does not reply to emotional outbursts?"

"Why did _you_ make us think that they would?"

He laughed heartlessly at this, "I suppose I did indulge you both too much."

It was your turn to stumble towards him now, cautiously, very aware that anyone could walk past and see you two as you laid one flat palm over his heart. It beat relentlessly in his chest, a mechanically thunder under flesh, it thumped loudly and more steadily than your anger, and you focused on it, matching your breaths with its pace in an attempt to calm down. You just wanted to return to earlier in the morning, basking in your shared loved and warm water, rather than being tormented by fears that one of your family members was about to be hurt. 

Obi-Wan gripped your hand, giving it a little squeeze, "Me too. But it will all be fine. Ahsoka is innocent," he reached out with his other hand, dusting his fingertips against your skin as he swept your hair back, "Now, how about you go and try find her with Anakin and I'll try my hardest to get this lot to listen."

With a shaky breath, you nodded your head. 

...

...

" 'Soka!" you gasped, thighs trembling with exhaustion as you staggered behind her, lungs burning, "Please stop, I'm not as young as I was," you gasped. 

The young padawan dared to glance behind her, loud footsteps echoing throughout the tunnels. Perhaps it was the glaring red tint of your cheeks, the wheezing of your breathes or the veracity of affection which raced throughout your eyes which made her stammer to a stop. 

_Thank the Maker._

"Maker, you're fast," you heaved. 

"Master I don't have time for this. Please, I didn't do any of the things they're accusing me of! I promise you I -"

"Young one," you interrupted, staggering towards the wide-eyed Togruta, "I know. Trust me," you murmured, stretching your hand out.

Her piercing blue eyes fell on your outstretched palm, resting on the silver band that encased a finger on your left hand, and upon seeing the ring her gaze turned stern as she took a single step back from you. The breadth that had grown between you felt incompossible with the past that you had shared. It felt unnatural, repulsive to feel so distant from someone that you viewed as your younger sister. 

You hand fell, limp by your side. 

"I can't master," she choked, "You may believe me but _they_ don't!"

Your head dipped, staring at your feet as her words wormed their way into your heart, "I understand young one."

Ahsoka's gaze was palpable, "Master Y/N I want you to know that I l-"

"I know 'Soka," you flashed her a melancholic smile, craning your head behind you as the thundering of clone boots echoed throughout the air, "Hurry! Go now, I'll head back to the council and try to get them to see your innocence." 

The sixteen year old nodded, eyes flickering across your face before she turned and paced off down the cement maze. 

_May the Force be with you, 'Soka._

...

...

"Obi, please just promise me that everything will be okay!" you gasped, hands burying themselves in his cream robes. 

Often you felt that your home rested with Obi-Wan, that he was where you found complete peace and rest. Yet, now as your eyes roamed across him, you couldn't discern anything that invited compassion or comfort. You surveyed the edifice from what felt like the cold outside and admired him greatly, he rustled and shimmered in the dim light which coated the hallway outside the council room. You attempted to glance in the windows and interpreted what you thought was an accurate impression of proportions equally fair, quelling your fears as his soul seemed to reflect your own desires. Yet, simultaneously, you felt as if you only saw glimpses and had yet not been granted the honour of being able to stand under the roof. The door was bolted before you, and though you had the keys jangling in your pocket, well worn and familiar, you felt convinced that none of them would fit.

Horror struck as you realized that he had hastily built a shabby wall between the two of you. 

Rather than reply, the copper haired man gripped your hands in his again and gave them a squeeze before he was swept again, disappearing into the deep darkness of the council room. 

Anxiety grasped you, its sharpened, experienced nails grounding themselves in your skin, wiggling further in and pushing its way into every cell that made you you. For the second time that day you felt as if you were buzzing, unable to stay still as you paced the small hallway, struggling to occupy your mind with anything other than fear. Time had slowed down, starting to slug its way into the future. You stared at it, it stretched far ahead with no ending in sight, just a glaring event horizon. The path was empty, a single grey road that rolled out before you, infectious grey smog blanketing it on either side. 

Each step that you took forward in time felt as if you were trudging through thick, slimy mud. With each staggering, self conscious movement that you chanced it appeared that the approaching future shunted further away, teasing you before leaping into the unknown like a frog. You felt like a leaf caught on the surface of a reedy, silvery stream, the crushing pressure of gravity forcing you down into the suffocating water, yet somehow being held up some unseen force. 

The constant battle between crushing fear and suffocating hope was robbing you of energy. 

Then the door slipped open, gloomy wisps of shadows pooling out of the room. 

Faintly in the background, you could heard Anakin's shouts. 

Immediately your eyes found themselves attached to Ahsoka's montrals, trying to find her padawans braid.

It hung lifelessly in the grasps of a Temple Guard's palm. 

You imagined the tug that had retched it out of her skin had hurt a thousand times more than the shattering of your heart. 

...

...

There were few people you often considered beheading. 

Mace Windu was most certainly one, but you felt your distaste for him being pushed aside by your growing hatred for Tarkin. He was dominating the trial, not allowing Padme to get a word in edge ways as he spewed more poison against Ahsoka. Bile that the Chancellor seemed to be devouring word for word, nodding and humming in agreement, expressing what appeared to you as pantomime shock when Tarkin reeled off the events of the case, as if he were merely acting. 

You narrowed your eyes, arms folding themselves defensively across your chest as you stood alongside Ahsoka, filling the vacancy that Anakin had left behind. 

Ahsoka's frustration and panic was steaming off of her in burning clouds. Her thoughts were so loud you had to build up a mental blockade against her, trying to block out the noise that resembled the bleating of a sacrificial lamb. You knew that if just one of her plethora of internal monologues managed to slip past your protections, that would be it, the rest would follow suit and rampage through your mind and heart. 

Exhaling harshly, you felt another stinging pressure. 

It was him. 

He was sat in the stall above, elbows digging in his thighs as he peered down at you both with those large, wounded eyes. You knew you shouldn't be angry with him, Obi-Wan was one of the few masters who had believed in Ahsoka and you knew that he had tried his hardest to obtain her innocence, but the larger more persuading portion of your mind and soul felt that he could have done better. That he shouldn't have lit those dim candles of hope that were swiftly extinguished within you. 

Guilt shrouded him like a zone of fine summer weather. 

Your mind started to wonder, scrambling to grasp onto ideas on how to save the young one, futility producing images of you whipping on your lightsaber, going toe to toe with the temple guards and busting Ahsoka out before they even had a time to come to a verdict. It was an empty plan, but the only one you had, and you felt that you owed it to the teenager to show her that someone within her family actually cared enough to fight for her. 

Just as your fingers ghosted the hilt of your lightsaber, Anakin Skywalker busted in through the doors, a shackled Barriss Offee behind him.

Relief stormed through you like a hurricane. 

...

... 

"Certain, are you, of your decision?" Yoda requested, voice stern.

You stood before the council, only hours after Ahsoka had chosen to leave the Order. The room which had been drunk on the concluding sunlight for the latter, was now cast in a grotesque shadow which reflected the council's own shade. You were about to take a step which would astonish many of your friends and displease a great deal of them, but most importantly, it would damage Obi-Wan in ways you never thought you'd be responsible for. 

For a brief moment, you saw nothing, eyes suddenly being suffused with tears that you rapidly blinked away, "I am, Master Yoda." 

You could hear _his_ heartache, how it disrupted the mechanical stammering of his heart. Shutting your eyes, you inhaled sharply, refusing to glance at him, trying everything possible to purge even just the thought of Obi-Wan Kenobi from your mind. 

"You are hereby released from the Jedi Order," Ki-Adi-Mundi's voice penetrated the stiffing air.

Suddenly, you felt both as if you couldn't breathe and that a heavy weight had been flung off your shoulders. The atmosphere felt as if it had grown solid, blocking and filling your airways and lungs as you nodded your head, turning to leave. 

"May the Force be with you," you heard Plo-Koon offer. 

The benefit of being a Jedi and having a lack of possessions meant that you could just leave. All you would be losing materially were copious amounts of blankets and pillows, which could easily be donated to the infirmary and padawan creches. At least they would be helping someone. The walk leading you to exit the Temple seemed winding, yet was drenched in a punching tint of clarity that infected your vision of the future. Each step was simultaneously a leap into the future and a flitting skip through the past. 

These were the halls where you hide behind pillars when sneaking out as a Padawan. 

There was the wall where Quinlan Vos had taken your first kiss. 

In those gardens were where Qui-Gon Jinn had imparted much of his wisdom on you, over a shared pot of steaming tea. 

The Jedi Order had become corrupted, the rot of such extortion was so deep rooted that it wouldn't be long now until the flimsy, pale skin that barely clothed their decay would slip away, slapping off the ground to reveal their festering gore. It was an infection you could no longer ignore, or operate under. The only thing which had truly kept you bound to the order was the false belief that you were all one community, a family. Such naivety was abruptly shattered by their heinous treatment of Ahsoka. It had been the final act which succeeded in separating any possible positive beliefs about the Order.

Immeasurable regret swelled through you at the thought of the young one, wishing you could have done more to shield her from the burning spores of the Council. It wasn't just the twelve Masters who had failed her. You had too. 

Your footsteps seemed loud and sonorous as you pushed your way outside the Temple, each tap roused a melancholic echo. No. It wasn't an echo. You finally turned to face him, almost immediately wishing that you hadn't. Suddenly your both precipitate and fastidious action seemed to be a youthful bout of rebellion. Too black and white. Shaking your head, you pushed aside waves of regret, knowing that your heart was pulling at your mind. 

Obi-Wan looked at you with eyes that were charged with the gleaming light of a passion that had sifted itself clear of the rational aspects of emotions, leaving in its wake the heat, the violence, the unreasonable. It flickered as steadily as a candle wick in a windless place. You were looking _into_ his gaze, fearing that you would accidentally trip and fall into that suddenly stern, harsh and penetrating look. 

"Please," was all he could managed as he walked towards you, movements appearing jarred and sloppy as if his joints were being untied, the harshness of his look softening as his eyes blurred with tears, "Please don't leave me."

"Obi -"

"Please, I have lost so many -" he croaked, suddenly crumbling to his knees before you, head falling so it rested just above your own knees, hands gripping the sides of your calves as if they were his anchors through the turbulent waves of his grief, "I've already lost Ahsoka today, please."

Pain festered through you. Stewjon. Qui-Gon's last whispering touch. Siri forcing a warm crystal into your hand, contrasting with her rapidly cooling body. Satine's trembling cupping of your cheek, whispering words of undying affection. Rose-tinted memories of clones. Waxer. Boil. Ahsoka's slim yet firm figure slipping out of sight. A grip on your shoulder preventing you from running after her, getting a chance to say goodbye. 

Obi-Wan's agony rolled through you, the grip he held on your legs threatening to crush your lungs as you clenched your fists together. You needed to be strong, to manifest a level of strength which you had never required before. Sinking to your knees, fighting against the current of remorse which warned to sweep you away, you placed two fingers under his chin, tilting it so that you could lock eyes with him. 

For the last time. 

"Obi-Wan," you breathed, "I cannot be a dog for the Republic anymore. The Jedi have lost their way. I know it, you know it, the whole of Coruscant knows it," you paused, flinching as he clenched his eyes shut, jaw growing tense beneath your touch, "I know why you can't leave," images of Anakin flickered through your mind alongside the recognition of Obi-Wan's determination to see peace restored to the galaxy, you pushed these realizations towards him, "You are the finest man I've ever know. The only man I c-could love."

Your tongued suddenly felt heavy and too large for your mouth, throat concaving under an invisible pressure as you felt a hot tear slip down your cheek. The fire which had burnt wildly in his eyes now scorned his lips, forcing them into an expression of pain, a gut-wrenching snarl like a wounded, dying animal backed into a corner. The guilt you felt for inflicting such agony upon him would be a wound you would never recover from, you were certain. 

The ring on your left was growing heavier with each passing second, and your heart stammered incoherently as you released your grip on his chin and redirected it to the silver band. It slipped off with ease, as if it had grown seven sizes too large. Reaching out, you cupped Obi-Wan's left hand, turning it so the palm was facing up and pressed the jewelry into it, every one of your senses burning whenever they were activated. His scent, his calloused skin, the way he looked so physically crumpled before you seared through your soul, playfully ripping it apart as this were all some game.

You couldn't carry that part of him anymore. You could no longer float your way through the bruising waves of his affection. Although it didn't matter all that much. You peeked down at your own palm, the scar which was permanently etched into your skin from where you had pressed the ring brutally into your palm at his funeral, grinned up at you like an ugly and disruptive pink mouth. It was fitting. Obi-Wan's adoration for you would forever be an aching wound upon your heart, a mar which would never truly heal properly. If you moved too precipitately, the ugly, bumpy scab would rip back from the wound, exposing the glaring red gore of love. 

Obi-Wan gripped the ring as if it were you. 

You rose before him. 

"I wish things were different," your voice was shockingly stable, "I wish we were back on Naboo. I wish we had never left." 

A painfully long beat passed. 

"I love you Obi-Wan." 

He clenched his eyes shut, jarring his head away from your gaze, "Jedi can have no attachments."

You sucked in a painful breath, exhaled it unsteadily before nodding. You understood. 

You turned, the first step seemed impossible, yet once you broke through that barrier, the rest seemed to come to you with ease. For months now you had felt as if you were constantly tittering between a glaring crimson and a bleaching white path, yet now your future seemed tinted in a different colour altogether. 

A cooling shade of grey.


	10. Episode Ten - Execute

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kept apart from each other for a year, you and Obi-Wan are reunited briefly... 
> 
> P.S buckle in this is long
> 
> (Hey! This is the last chapter, although I have a lot of plans for future projections - view the chapter notes at the end)

**Coruscant**

She moved like a silken spirit, bare feet merely grazing the floor of her apartment, her tulle nightdress shimmering in the dimming light. Despite her gentle step, he still heard her approaching as if she were a reek stampeding towards him, thundering lunges and raspy exhalations. 

"Ani," she called out, now propping her shoulder against the cool glass of her balcony's door, "Talk to me."

Anakin was sat rigidly on the chair, Ahsoka's abandoned lightsabers clutched within his hands as if he feared they too would walk away from him. Stretching far beyond him was the sun, which had sunk low, the bronze light taking a deeper tone, the constantly moving, metallic Coruscant basking in the molten glow. The atmosphere was tepid, a whispering breeze animating the soft curls that cloaked the man's face. The dying light splashed on him, highlighting half his face as he turned to looked at his wife. 

Still to this day he was convinced that she had to be angel. With a face like that she _had_ to be. 

It was an expressive, communicative, responsive face. It was a visage that told of an amplitude of nature and of quick and free motions, never hesitant to wrinkle up in fury or curl in the ballad of laughter; she was in the highest degree engaging and encouraged forging attachments, so much so that Anakin often felt that he couldn't truly be blamed for falling so deeply and madly in love with her all those years ago. Her bister eyes were large, dark pools that held a sweltering oppression over him, yet they were full of light and incapable of stupidity. Experience had not yet diminished her youth or beauty; it had simply made her all the more sympathetic and determined to see the galaxy restored to peace. Her beauty reflected her moral integrity. She was a woman of powerful impulses and strength which were kept in an admirable yet deceiving order; Padme embodied the beauty of a rose but the sharp bite of a nettle. She was a woman who could make political speeches ring like the song of poetry, rises and cadences, like the waves of the ocean, and she did so with unwavering confidence.

Such qualities meant she was always welcomed wherever she went. 

But she was welcomed most in the heart of Anakin Skywalker. 

He drank her in desperately. Her hair was in thick, dark curls that cascaded down her back somehow classically, as if she were a marble bust. Her honey glossed skin supple and divine, the arch of her neck curved like the horn of a bantha. She seemed to him like a self-authored page, Padme lacked the inky blots of corruption and selfishness which often made other senators difficult to read. Every word printed upon her skin, mind and tongue was her own; her ripened and rhythmic thoughts.

"What are you thinking about?" her melodic voice asked. 

"How beautiful you are."

"Liar!" she teased, a smirked flirting across her lips as she threaded her way over to him, sinking down beside him. 

Anakin rolled his eyes, it wasn't necessarily a deception, "Padme."

"Ani," she whispered, fingers resting on one of the lightsabers, "Please."

His teachings as a Jedi told him to release these emotions before they gripped a hold of his tongue, but his education as husband and lover condoned this. 

He smirked, "Ah, I now see why you're such a _persuasive_ senator."

She greeted this with a smile, hearing how his voice was embedded with laborious emotion and gave him an encouraging nod. 

"I guess," he began, eyes tearing away from her mesmerizing face and falling back to the weapons that lay in his hands, "Where did I go wrong? What did I do wrong?"

When Anakin's voice trembled, fluttering and staggering through the air like a wounded butterfly, Padme snaked her fingers into his hair, "My love, you did nothing wrong, you were one of the few who believed in Ahsoka."

"Like Y/N. I feel so torn, Padme. I - I don't know what to do," he glowered at the horizon before him, " I feel like I let her down, when I was going to leave the Order as a padawan, Obi-Wan was going to leave with me and... Ahsoka left and I didn't even offer - but - Y/N did. Am I a bad Master?"

"Anakin, you were best the Master Ahsoka could have asked for," Padme gripped his face between her hands, thumbs running soothing circles across his skin, "She didn't leave because of _you,_ she left because of the Council and the war, things completely out of your control."

The man fell silent. 

Then.

"And Obi-Wan! I think I'm angry the most at Y/N, I mean at least Ahsoka was young, her path as a Jedi wasn't defined but Y/N -" his voice broke off, finding renewed strength at a louder volume, "She was my sister! And she left me behind and Ahsoka was my sister too, they were the closest things I had to a family and they left me behind!"

His thunderous eyes landed on her, he pinned her to the spot with his gaze, wondering when she too would leave like everyone else. Padme broke away from his survey, hands falling from his face, her sight now trickling over the metal structures which jutted up from the planet's surface. Sometimes she found herself missing the vast purple shadows that interrupted the green carpet of grass that embellished Naboo, or the soft whisper of trickling water as it stroked the sand dusted shores. Yet, whenever she felt that familiar, blissful burn of Anakin's gaze settle on her, she felt the ache to return home get swept up in the flames. Anakin always had been, and always would be, where Padme found her home. 

Swiftly, she turned back to look at him, heartstrings throbbing like those of a strung harp. She knew immediately where his thoughts were crashing, sending dangerous, pointed shrapnel flying. Gently, she rested a palm on his hand clutched around one of the lightsabers. 

"They didn't leave to hurt you. They left because this war is bringing out the worst in all of us, even the Jedi and... I commend them for walking away, rather than allowing themselves to learn to hate the Order," she paused, squeezing his hand, "They did what was right for them Ani, and now you have to do what's right for you. Neither Ahsoka or Y/N would want you to sit here and think either of their decisions were because of you, or done to harm you. They'd want you to be happy for them."

"And what about Obi-Wan? He is broken, I- I've never seen him like, not even after Siri or Satine. The only time that he's ever been this bad was after Qui-Gon and I didn't help him then either-"

"You were _nine_ Anakin!"

This staggered his self-criticism, "I just hate seeing him so miserable."

"Obi-Wan is one of those people who have only ever experienced loss," Padme pondered aloud, "He is one of the strongest men I've ever know, Maker knows how much he's struggling right now, but I'm certain he will get over it. All you can do is be there for him, a distraction."

"That, I can do," Anakin smirked, flashing glimpses of his teeth. 

"You know that's your greatest fault. You care far too much."

"I doubt that can really be considered a fault."

She looked at him now, his adoration for everyone in his life almost palpable. Anakin's wish to save all those he deemed his family or friends, his unrelenting selflessness, was what had drawn the young Senator to the Jedi in the first place, but occasionally, like right now, such wishes clouded his judgement like a dark cloud, casting a long and looming shadow before the man. During such periods, Padme became all too well aware of her husbands unbridled strength and surging emotions.

"Besides," she changed the subject, "I doubt it will be long before you all see each other again."

"What makes you so certain about that"

"Well, because you're all Jedi," Anakin flinched at this, but Padme waved his protest off, setting him still with a raise of her eyebrow as she carried on, "There is more to being a Jedi than just being in the Order, Anakin, we both know that. What makes you all Jedi is in here," she laid a warm hand on his chest, where his dark tunic was slit, revealing his bronzed skin, "And this makes all of you so self sacrificial all the time, I have no doubt that you will all meet again and argue about who gets to give up their lives for the great good."

Anakin laughed, one of his hands trailing up to grip Padme's, dwarfing her palm when compared to his, "I hope you're right," he hummed, raising her palm to his slightly chapped lips, pressing a firm yet chaste kiss to her pulse point. 

...

... 

_Finally!_

Cluttered bodies blocked your path, anytime you tried to make your way to your target, you found that another being had stood in front of you. The warmth was almost unbearable, clouding the underworld in a thick blanket of humidity that drew beads of perspiration to your skin, only being encouraged from the suddenly baking heat of the sun which had somehow penetrated its way down to the lower levels. Torrid warmth bellowed off of the large gathering of beings around the market, poking and prodding at your diminishing patience as you pushed through the crowd, no longer apologising for your nudging, pointed elbows that found purchase in soft sides.

"Ahsoka!" you called out, recognising the young Togruta despite the hood which clothed her montrals. 

She turned, bright eyes scrunched in confusion before winds of clarity, shock and fondness cleared them, "Master Y/N!"

"No, not anymore," you shook your head, stumbling past the last of your obstacles, "Just Y/N now."

"Huh?"

"I may or may not have left the Order."

"Master - sorry, Y/N," She laughed halfheartedly, "Do you mind me asking why?" 

"Of course not young one, but how how about we do it over a cup of caf?"

She returned this with a grin, "I think that, as usual, you have the best ideas."

You couldn't help but laugh, hailing a taxi. 

...

"You really must stop calling me 'Master'," you laughed, hands loosely holding a cooling mug of caf, "I'm no longer a Jedi, people are going to think we're into some weird shit."

Ahsoka flushed, shaking her head, "And Obi-Wan wonders where Anakin got his crassness from."

"Hey! You say that like its a bad thing. Being a tad on the crass side just means we're funny."

She found herself unable to disagree, giving you a nod before her motions became ever so slightly more hesitant as if she were wadding through a volume of water. You waited, hoping that she would just ask the question that she had been darting round for the last hour. When it never left her mouth, you decided to prod her along the way. 

"It's okay Ahsoka, you can ask me about it," you offered, unable to fully vocalise the reality of the question, all too aware of the pang that had nestled itself in your heart the last few days and not wanting to draw too much attention to it. 

The teenager worked her bottom lip between her teeth, shifting her cup from one hand to the other, "Was it... was it my fault?"

"No, not at all young one. I... left the Order because I had been noticing its flaws for years now," you mused, hand rising to cup your chin as you started to navigate your way through the turning cogs of your mind, "I guess their failing of you was just the final straw. It made me aware that their inhumanity was extended to members of their supposed family."

Ahsoka nodded in agreement, mentally noting how your current position mirrored Obi-Wan whenever he was deep in thought, though she decided to keep this realization to herself.

"What about Obi-Wan?" she whispered. 

Your grip on your cup suddenly tightened, knuckles jutting up through your skin as you let silence creep in briefly, "Like your Master, Obi-Wan's path lies still with the Jedi. I... I believe it is Knights like them that could bring about change to the Order. Much needed changed."

"Do you feel..." she struggled to clasp onto words, the white markings on her forehead fusing together, "I mean, I just feel so lost. I have this connection to the Force and now I have no reason for it. I have all this training, this sense of justice and just nowhere to channel it."

"Ahsoka, even though we've both left we'll always be Jedi in some manner. The Force is a part of us now, we don't have to cut ourselves off from it just because we're no longer part of a... _cult._ I guess we can just embrace the will of the Force completely now. The galaxy is still at war, there are always going to be people who need help, people who the Republic can't reach or who have been hurt by the Republic," you paused, giving her a grin, "You aren't a good person because you were a Jedi. You were always a good person, the Order just gave you the opportunities to actually help, but that doesn't have to stop now." 

"So you're saying I should just keep doing what I've been doing?"

"Yes," you grinned, "But with far less rules now. That should appeal to you, right? Or has Anakin let me down?"

"Not at all!"

"Good," you glanced at the shabby clock, surprise striking you, "Kriff! I need to go, my ship will be leaving soon," you rushed, rising out of your seat. 

"Where are you going?"

Shrugging on a newly purchased jacket, a significantly lighter material than your previously cloak becoming a symbol for your love of your newfound liberty, "I don't know yet, somewhere far away from this kriffing war... Do you want to come with me? I wouldn't mind the company." 

Ahsoka fixed you with a contemplative stare. It had only been four days since her departure from the Order and yet she already looked drastically different to you, as if she had aged overnight. Her tangerine skin seemed to glow more, freed from the oppressive stress of the Order, yet her deep, royal eyes swelled with an aged acceptance and sadness which had been missing from them before. Despite her new civilian clothing, a tight fitting jumpsuit, Ahsoka still held the cool, precise face of a warrior, her shoulders pulled back into a rigid posture as if she were a marionette being tugged into position; an expression which revealed nothing whilst telling everything. The past two years of Ahsoka's life as a padawan had placed this mask upon her, robbed her of her ability to express emotions yet this vacancy told that she had been scarred so much as that she could not trust.

A white aura was painted around her. 

"I would love to," she began, darting her eyes back to the table, "But I think I need to be on my own for a while. Find my place, you know?"

Smiling, despite the sting of disappointment, you nodded, "I do. Well..."

She rose from her seat across from you and rushed to grab you in a bone crushing hug that took you aback briefly, but you swiftly returned her gesture with a squeeze, feeling acidic tears start to burn your eyes.

"Thank you, Master."

Sniffling, you pulled back, hands gripping her shoulders as you engraved every one of her features into your mind for the last time. You may never get to have children of your own, but at least you had had the opportunity to help raise Ahsoka. 

And then you were creeping out of the cafe, the journey to the docking bay becoming nothing more than a blur of nonsensical colours and smells and sounds. 

When the ship jutted into the air with a tug, you couldn't help letting your eyes fall and rest on the temple, heart yearning to return home.

...

...

**Utapau**

The Force worked in mysterious ways. You knew this, your whole entire life was centered around this ideology and yet, you still found yourself questioning its wills when it forced you into conundrum's such as these. Your readings of the whole Force were never the most accurate, and you feared that this inadequacy had crept itself into your current decision to position yourself on the barren planet of Utapau. Qui-Gon's teachings to focus on the living Force, the here and now, rather than the ever elusive future, now appeared equally a curse as it was a gift. 

Sighing, the tinge of confusion drilling the back of your skull, you shrugged yourself free of the trappings of your bed sheets, feet landing on the cool, bony architecture of your home. It wasn't much, paling even in comparison to your quarters back on Coruscant, but it provided you with shelter and a place to rest, and that was all you needed right now. Somewhat mechanically, you worked your way through your routine: get washed, get dressed, mediate and try to figure out why you had been guided here. 

Where once you found comfort in the blanket of the Force, now you found the cool shadow of the darkside which had somehow slithered its way in and clamped down tight with huge, unhinging jaws. Being so far from Coruscant, and lacking a lot of Republic connections in your solitude, you were completely unaware of the state of the war; which side of the tide had the penchant fallen. The world seemed to throb around you, coated in a layer of buzzing static which prevented you from grasping onto a clear, defined thought. It filled you with heart stopping dread. More often than not, you found that vibration had become easy to you, a dangerous state of anxiety had become a reluctant safety net, and was now in fact a far too constant and wary companion. 

In the deepening darkness however, there was still one flickering, flame of light. 

Relief flooded through you, as it did every day whenever you searched for Obi-Wan's presence in the galaxy and found it still beating relentlessly.

At first you had been cautious about searching for him, weary about how he would respond to the familiar pressure, but when he laid himself bare in submission whenever it happened, you threw caution to the wind. 

With a huff, you rose to your feet and shuffled towards your workbench. The lose components stared back up at you, the bits of scrap metal and white, willowy bones were artifacts of deception, appearing as nothing more than pieces of rubbish, when in reality they were to bear the weight of your strength. Inhaling deeply, calling on the world around you, you reached out, hearing the click and snap of all the pieces sliding into place. When you opened your eyes, they fell on a thing of beauty.

Your newly constructed lightsaber.

In a swift movement, you pulled it towards you, curling it around your wrist effortlessly before igniting it, blood rushing with the familiar, glorious sound of the laser punctuating the air. A soft teal green splashed against the alabaster walls and upon seeing it your breathe hitched, before escaping your lips as a laughter. You could almost picture it now, Obi-Wan or Anakin's evident confusion at the idea of you preferring to resolve a conflict with the nips of your tongue rather than the slashing of your weapon.

"Well, the Force works in mysterious ways," you muttered, snubbing the blade and attaching the weapon to the belt at your hip. 

Gathering some supplies, food and water, and stuffing them in a bag, you prepared for a venture on the surface, to further aid your search for an answer to your question. Yet, before you could even reach the door you heard a reminiscent, deep rumble of aircraft echo throughout the sinkholes which littered the surface of Utapau. In your month stationed here, you hadn't heard the thunderous sound of engines once, not even a whisper of the noise. 

"What the?" you whispered, dipping out of your door and staring up through the spiraling hole, hand rising to shield your eyes from the blaring sun. 

The burning symbol of the Republic stared back at you. 

Fear seeped through your body as you slammed the door shut behind you. The war had made its way here. 

...

The climb to the top of the sinkhole was a long and laborious journey, and even when you slugged your way to the top, it was still a long walk to reach the other crater where Republic ships were swarming like locusts. Your muscles were bleating, sweat trickling down your back as you staggered towards the troops, pain being abated by the intoxicating mixture of anticipation and joy when your eyes picked out the familiar markings of the 212th troops. 

Suddenly, all of your questions appeared to have been answered. 

This was why you were supposed to be here. 

Your heart soared. Just before you was Cody, his face contorted in concentration as he jabbed his hand left and right, sending men running off in the distance, the sound of their blasters firing ricocheted around you. Your being here now appeared like a stripe of golden light shattering through the dark clouds of a storm, everything added up now, your completion of constructing a new lightsaber, it was all because you were meant to be here. You were supposed to help them in this battle. 

"Cody!" you called, voice ringing sweetly. 

The Commander turned to look at you, his helmet clutched in his hand allowing you to see the smile that spread across his face, "General Y/N!"

"Not anymore Cody, it's just Y/N," you winced, jogging over to him. 

"You'll always be a Genral to me, sir," he laughed, "Jedi or not, you were always loyal to me and my brothers. That's all that matters to us clones." 

His words peeled back the sensitive skin of a wound that you thought was healed, drawing a burning pressure to the back of your eyes, "I missed you," was all you could croak before you found yourself swept aside by the waves of your emotions, throwing your arms around his neck and you clutched him tightly. Your mind was running ninety miles an hour, and you wanted to screech on the brakes as you thought of all the clones who would have lost their lives in your absence. 

Cody laughed, staggering back a few steps under your weight, before returning the gesture with as much pressure. The plates of his armor were cool and smooth, like the outer layer of a droid and you found it all too ironic. The clones were dressed like lifeless beings, and yet they were some of the few organisms in this whole galaxy who were compassionate and loving, willing to risk their lives for a brighter future. 

You pulled back, "What are you doing here?" you asked, a blush creeping across your cheeks. 

"General Kenobi is here to kick cyborg ass."

This caused you to frown despite the jerking of your heart at the mention of Obi-Wan, "What do you mean Cody?"

"General Grevious, sir. Obi-Wan is here to meet him in combat."

"B-By himself?" you stammered. 

"Yes."

"But that's insane, ridiculous, _stupid!_ " you rushed, the countless battles between Obi-Wan and the grotesquely pieced together monster that was General Grievous flashing through your mind: the numerous Jedi that he had slain. 

Cody smirked, "It sounds to me, sir, that you don't believe in Obi-Wan's skills."

"No! I just -," your voice died, scared to pronounce your worst thoughts, _I'm scared that he might die alone._

Gently, the Commander placed a warm hand on your shoulder, giving you a comforting squeeze, "Hey, if there's one thing I learned after all these years, it's to never underestimate a Jedi. It was a calculated risk. "

This earned him a melancholic smile, and you teased, "The council were never too good at maths, Cody."

This made the man chortle, shaking his head, "You never lost your sense of humor then?"

"Not in the slightest." 

"I'm glad to hear it. Besides," he pointed his chin behind you, a grin spreading across his face, "I don't think Kenobi needs your assistance."

You arched an eyebrow, and turned. 

There he was, the man who plagued your thoughts and heart every whispering moment of the day; your affection for him trickling freely like a stream, pouring out into a larger, deep ocean. His face was busted open in several places, his bottom lip swollen and bruised and yet he still managed to ooze elegance as he sat poised on the dragon mount beneath him. Sun bleached hair was tousled on his head, fringe dipping onto his forehead and grazing his eyes. He had kept the beard, and it embellished his square jaw like a symbol of his masculinity and beauty. Your breath became hitched, heart faltering as you drank him in. It was like you were seeing colour for the first time. 

It seemed to you now that his jaw had never been more square, or the muscles of his shoulders never so broad and strong. The glittering blue of his eyes seemed to shine through a visar of a helmet, they were the only spot of light that you could bring yourself to focus on as the mount lopped towards you. That strong, overpowering sense of justice and readiness to launch into battle at any day during the year clung around him like a shimmering, protective cloak, rebuking any stains upon his reputation. Your affection for him was still caught in your heart, throbbing in time with the mechanical pumping; it was ingrained into your emotions, but it left you feeling ashamed, guilty. You had slipped from his grasp for your own adoration of freedom. You felt as if you didn't deserve your desire for him. 

And yet, you couldn't repress the memories that exploded through your mind. The friction of his beard rubbing against your skin; the jingle of his laugh; the way he ran his hands through his hair; how he sat in the council room, legs pushed apart, head propped up by an ample hand; the flicker of his eyes whilst he repressed a chuckle at Anakin, Ahsoka and Rex's antics; the copious cups that littered his room, half filled with cold tea. It felt as if a frozen, thorny hand was clasped around your heart, choking the life out of it. 

You yanked yourself free from the blissful grip of your memories. Crashing back to the present, you felt a deep-rooted, glaringly great respect for him; you knew, you could still feel it flowing through the Force, how much his soul still hummed for you and you discovered that he was still fatally too magnanimous. Despite the measurable numbers of pangs and aches which throbbed through Obi-Wan, and he couldn't discern whether it was from the beating Grievous had just inflicted upon him or from just seeing you standing there tanned and tall after a year, he still maintained his old sense that he was naturally plated and steeled, armed essentially for aggression.

A deep flush spread across his face, "Y/N..."

"Obi-Wan," you breathed, his name feeling both foreign but comforting upon your tongue. 

Sensing the weighted air between you two, Cody cleared his throat, "Was your mission successful, Sir?"

"Yes, Cody, General Grievous is now nothing more than scrap metal," Obi-Wan smirked, his eyes never leaving yours, making you feel both one foot tall and far superior than everyone around you. His confession permeated through the air, you could feel hope, joy and peace roll off of Cody and allowed such emotions to penetrate deep within you. 

"Does this mean," you began, a cheek splitting grin ripping across your face, "That the war is over?"

"Yes, it does."

Hope sparked through you, erupting in every one of your nerves, reducing you to nothing more than a trembling, giddy mess. Rose-tinted dreams seeped into your mind, cracking though the wall you had erected to push them out when they had crept up on you late at night, tormenting you with what you had lost. Obi-Wan freed of his armour, lounging on a woven chair; the gentle chirping of insects mingling with the swaying of the tall grass in a breeze. You could return to the Order now, you could work to dismantle the corruption in this time of peace and most importantly, you could be with Obi-Wan again. 

"Yes, but this battle isn't," Cody interrupted, "There are still plenty of clankers out there sir, we could use your help in dismantling them."

Obi-Wan finally tore his gaze from you, flashing the Captain a toothy grin, "Of course."

"You might need this General," the clone stretched out, clutched in his hand was the copper-haired man's lightsaber. 

You burst out into laughter, earning yourself a glare from Obi-Wan, "What!"

"Oh I don't know, I just think it's highly ironic for you, Mr 'this-weapon-is-your-life', to have lost it and still somehow managed to destroy Grievous," you laughed, the sound like music to his ears, drawing a grin across his face, "If Anakin were here you'd never hear the end of it."

"Well," he grinned, clasping the blade, "You've got to promise not to tell him."

"I'll think about it."

Now Cody turned to you, "And what about yourself, we could use some extra help ending this battle, you in?"

Your hand shot to the new weight on your hip, curling around the hilt; you spun the base expertly in your hand before lighting, "You know me, Cody, always ready for a battle."

"You haven't changed a bit."

But now it was Obi-Wan's turn to stifle a laugh, "That's not true Commander, look at the new colour of her lightsaber, perhaps Y/N won't be much help in battle," he teased, his smile reaching his eyes with a devilish twinkle, "It seems Anakin will have something against the both of us."

Playfully, you jabbed the humming blade at him, "If you say nothing, I'll say nothing."

"Deal," he chuckled, face now falling under the pressure of reality, "Y/N I-"

"Tell me after we've won Obi-Wan," you cut him off, the sight of that rosy, lovely eagerness in your face threw some confusion into his attempt to analyse your words. Initially, an immense unwillingness perpetuated throughout his body, sore remonstrance in his eyes, but it all melted away when he flashed you a smile. 

"After," he agreed, and you nodded, watching as he lurched the mount beneath him into a swift gallop. 

"May the Force be with you!" you called out, turning back to Cody, "Where do you need me, Captain?"

But the man was now talking to other clone, he glanced back at you, "Sorry, Y/N, new orders have just arrived, be wherever a clanker is."

You laughed and started to stalk off towards the battle. 

Then a stabbing pain fell upon you and you staggered. It wasn't a physical pain, nor a mental one, no, this was something new, something blood curdling. It was like thousands of people were being cut down like pampas grass crippling under the blade of a scythe. You dropped to your knees, not processing how your lightsaber slipped from your hands and rolled off into the dusty distance as you brought them to the side of your head, cradling it. It felt as if your skull was cracking, pulling an agonised and weighted cry from your lips. 

_"Yes, my lord."_

The screams, the cries and the groans suffused your hearing, but your heart still plummeted as you looked up, eyes locking on the ever growing distant dot of Obi-Wan. You didn't hear, or even begin to process, the clicking of the blasters, the rounds being loaded and the nuzzles of the weapons locking aim on your back. Instead, you watched in horror as the ground beneath Obi-Wan and his mount erupted and fell apart; as he was flung from the beast, limbs sprawled out around him; tumbling towards the earth like an angel who had their wings clipped. 

Metal glowed red hot as the intense pressure within the chamber sent a shoot spiraling out of neck.

You didn't know what hurt more, the ringing in your ears from the repeated shots or the violent burn that ripped through you. You jerked when the first blast jabbed your shoulder, plunging out the other side. It warranted a scream. It drove you to the ground. The next round punctuated your right lung, smashing your lower rib cage as it forced its way through your body. The one after that broke through the back of your thighs. Each of them acting as a nail, pinning you to the ground as your limbs suddenly felt too distant to be used, too heavy to be lifted. 

The world now seemed to be cloaked in a film, the image of Cody, your friend, stood before you, with his blaster aimed at your head, was blurred and doubled. 

A wheezing laugh slipped past your lips, this had to be a joke. 

Cody curled his fingers around the trigger. 

And across the galaxy, Jedi were slaughtered.

_Pew._

...

...

The benefit of using laser weapons was that the dead never appeared too gruesome. In fact, when hit in the right spot, where the singeing wound could be disguised, it often just looked like the victim was asleep. Well, that was if they died with eyes shut, that is. Otherwise the glossy, milky whites of their irises would reveal their unfortunate fate. 

He threw up. 

He threw up so hard that he feared that his heart and lungs had been caught up in the burning tide and were now splattered on the floor, diced into tiny chunks. The smell of singed skin wafted through the air, the curled and blackened, scorched wounds glared back up at him. Tiny, black holes littered your body, one through your shoulder, two on your left thigh, three through the right, bone jutted out of the one that penetrated through your right rib cage, but, it was the brutal one beneath your eyes which made his stomach drop and fall out of him. 

It felt as if his knees had been disintegrated as he collapsed to the ground. Obi-Wan pulled himself by his hands the rest of the way over to you, whimpering, "No, no, no,no," as if if he denied it enough, it would simply cease to be. You wouldn't be dead. He brushed loose strands of your hair from your marred face, hot, fat tears exploding on your ghastly pale cheeks. 

"Wake up," he croaked pathetically, arms now encircling around you as he pulled you into his lap, one hand hooked under your shoulder. He wept as your head lolled lifelessly, falling back over his arm. There was nothing he wanted more right now than for the organ in your chest to stutter back to life and pump warmth back through your body; for the milky glass that had slithered over your eyes to dissolve and reveal your flickering irises; to feel your warm, toned arms encase him and cling onto him for dear life; for that smile that was garishly spread across your blue lips to look bright and rosy. 

But you didn't move in his arms. 

And something shattered deep within him. 

The clones were still looking for him, he could hear them distantly chirping to one another in the background as he trembled unsteadily. A part of him had resolved to die and he hated it, he despised it fervently. He wanted to die but he knew that you would want him to live. 

To make sure Anakin was okay. 

To find Ahsoka. 

To protect the little ones. 

But he felt as if he were cracking under your expectations of him. How could he save them when he couldn't keep the one person who meant the whole galaxy to him safe? No, not even safe, alive. 

"I'm so sorry. I love you Y/N, I'm so sorry," he whispered unsteadily, shaky fingers trickling inside his tunics and barely grasping the chain which was looped around his neck. With a weak tug, the band snapped and the ring fell into his palm. Looking at it caused intense pain to sear through him and Obi-Wan cupped your left hand, the marble-like coolness of your skin making him flinch, and pushed the band back to where it belonged. 

Now, his heart had returned home. 

It would always be yours. In life or death, his soul would always be cupped between your hands. 

...

...

_"I hate you!"_

_"You were my brother, Anakin. I loved you."_

_"I understand that as usual you're playing politics. This is why the people have lost faith in the Jedi. I had too, until I was reminded about what the order means to people who truly need us."_

_"Right now the people on Coruscant need us."_

_"Tell me after we've won Obi-Wan."_

_"After."_

He stroked his beard, tears prickling his eyes as he stared down at the sand blanketed surface of Tatooine and wondered why he always told people that he loved them too late. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> Well, it's over. 
> 
> I hope you found it somewhat enjoyable. 
> 
> Can I just thank you all. Every person who has left a kudos or commented - you all put massive smiles on my face and I am so grateful for your active engagement. 
> 
> I am planning on doing a Padawan fic which will be set in this universe that I've established, it will feature a reader but it won't be centered around them. However, this will probably take a lot of time to plan and come up with a convincing storyline so I was wondering one or two things. 
> 
> If you want to answer:  
> One - what would you like a padawan fic to focus on?  
> Two - would you be interested in a random collection of interactions between the reader and Obi-Wan set during this timeline - focusing less on her growing distaste for the Order and instead on more romantic aspects. I can then turn Borderline into a series. 
> 
> Anyway, this has been a lot of fun to write.  
> It's actually crazy looking back on the first chapter and how much it makes me want to gag - I definitely got back into the flow of writing around the third insert, so thank you for anyone who stuck around. 
> 
> It would be fantastic to see if there is anything you guys want me to do! 
> 
> Love ye all x


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